Forever and Always
by Funeral.Bell
Summary: AU/Mind reader!Green. "Oh yeah? Fifty bucks," Gold challenged, absently wiggling the spork between his thumb and forefinger, amber eyes briefly surveying the vacant lunchroom. "Fifty bucks to get that guy over there to like you. What was his name…? Red?" —Originalshipping
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Odd plot is odd. I don't even know how long this is going to stretch out;; I'm so unorganized with my ideas but they nag me to no end I can't avoid them much longer. I have a short one-shot stuck in my head, however it's going to be pokémon-related, not pokémon human charas. Oh how I wonder when I'll start that, ahaha… This is not going to be my final shot at GreenxRed, I have two other things planned. Time to wing this.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: AU. Mind reader!Green. "Oh yeah? Fifty bucks," Gold challenged, absently wiggling the spork between his thumb and forefinger, amber eyes briefly surveying the vacant lunchroom. "Fifty bucks to get that guy over there to like you. What was his name…? Red?" –Originalshipping  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Compared to the manga I prefer a crude Green, it gives his personality a flare. Red, on the other hand, is going to be the quiet type that we all know and love. Ah. If you have yet to realize this fic contains slash, boys love, whatever you care to call it. Feel free to continue but if the mere notion of two guys coupled romantically disturbs/makes you uncomfortable, I would strongly suggest you hit the back button. And lastly would be the traces of OOC (I will definitely try to get their characters down to the best of my ability!)  
><strong>Rated<strong>: M for safety/language/and other stuff.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Pokémon is owned by the Nintendo Company, I have no connections nor will I ever in this lifetime. I am not making money out of this (ARCEUS I WOULDN'T EVEN BE ON FFN FREQUENTLY IF I HAD MOOLAH) and this was created from my sheer amusement and partial boredom.

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><p><strong>fσяєνєя <strong>

αи∂

_ alwayѕ_

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><p>How Green despised Mondays with a burning passion his limited vocabulary, and groggy state of mind, could not even begin to describe.<p>

Every day he only needed to remind himself he only needed one year to complete his high school days before entering college, he would no longer have to surround himself with his peers that had little to no concern over their future, however it never stopped his enthusiastically social personality to befriend them despite his rude and tactless remarks. Classmates he befriended would invite him during classes to skip the period to venture outside; it had startled them momentarily their offer was sharply declined even when they offered cheap bait such as alcohol or some woman they encountered to boast about. Green preferred the sanctum of the track field to finish his homework in solitude, he avoided the crowded lunchroom upon several occasions, and he maintained a healthy social life in school, almost always surrounded by a group of "friends."

The brunet was a good student, crude, but a good student nonetheless. At the very least, he reasoned optimistically, he would no longer have to delve into the subconscious of his social circle and their ridiculous or idiotic inward rambling. Staring into the reflection of the bathroom mirror dirtied by aged grime and graffiti, Green exhaled a rolling sigh weighing his shoulders. Mondays he would have to subject himself to wake to his early alarm and ready himself before the arrival of the school bus, every other day his first period would begin at a quarter before eight sharp, on Mondays the classes would begin at eight thirty: he would have to linger longer than needed be with his friends just because his grandfather refused to purchase a car for him. For a famous professor of animal studies he would have expected the cheerful elderly man to buy his favorite grandson—or rather his only grandson—a car for all his scholastic efforts!

Or suffering through hell day in and day out, tortured by the fact he has never been blessed with an absolute moment of silence. Green kept his lips sealed on his little secret regarding mind reading, especially to his only living relative besides his older sister. The voices were so loud, so boisterous, so inane, and reflected a myriad of emotions projecting into Green's head. Hidden beneath the sticky notes and pencils of the smallest pouch of his checkered black-and-green backpack was a silver compact pill case storing several white round-shaped tablets, his medication was to alleviate the headaches that occurred throughout the day. Green could not just choose whether to intrude someone's inner musings, he could not simply order his mind to halt the flooding thoughts, he was to submit and _listen_ to someone constantly seeking the privacy of their mind to talk, talk,_ talk. _

And Mondays made it all the more painful.

Dipping his hands under the running water of the faucet he splashed cold water on his face to remove all the traces of his weary disposition, he blinked several times to his reflection, blankly gazing as the droplets of water ran down his face. His frown twitched upwards to force a strained grin to greet his friends—or whoever chose to arrive by the school bus—at the lunchroom. One thing about Mondays is the supremely beautiful scene where the cluttered mass of students would be absent, their presence would fill the cafeteria by eight for those wanting to secure last minute conversations or breakfasts.

_'Ahh, I needed that piss.'_

_'I am so screwed! If I don't get her something amazing for our one-month anniversary…shit! She'll dump me!'_

_'Is it so hard to flush the damn toilet?'_

Green chuckled quietly. He will admit one thing: as irritating as it is to be capable of listening to someone's thoughts, their inner rage or rants could be occasionally humorous. Giving one final inspection on his appearance—including raking his hand through his hair to ensure the spikes were well kept, checking to see if the zipper of his brown cargo pants was closed, and smoothing the faint wrinkles on his black sweater—he turned on the balls of his heels, greeted by the few people loitering the hallways on the bleak Monday morning normally brooding in their heads, generally complaining of their lack of sleep or their impending first period. Green directed his focus on his high canvas black nikes, treading slowly through a group of people socializing loudly by the entrance.

His ego gained an extra boost in high school. It was not like middle school where the girls' fantasies would range from several dates, in high school their fantasies escalated to an entirely new level. Giving them any form of eye contact would make their thoughts run on a tangent, and as flattering as it was he found their girlish nature rather spine-chilling. He recalled one day he was heading to the library to check out a book for his class, a girl staring intently from across the room excitedly said in her head, _'How I would so let him do me.'_

It could have been to directed to any other male in the library except he could feel her boring holes while his back was turned – he never minded having his own share of relationships throughout his four years of high school, he had a pair of beaten green converse at home where he would allow the girls he would date to write their names on any available empty spaces. He was surprised they never minded having their name written in sharpie beside any former girl he dated, some were memorable like the girl that graduated last year and gave amazing head. He coyly boasted whenever he trampled others in sports like basketball and the occasional football game, or perhaps beat his track record, but he was more guarded over his personal life with relationships…

Green thoughtfully gazed at his tray being filled with tater tots, a biscuit, and a reasonable dollop of scrambled eggs by the aged lunch lady. His friends would persistently try to pry information of his sexual tendencies, his preference, and every time he would deter the conversation to something else entirely. Sex was sex, an education was not meant to be skipped, he didn't revolve his life around sports, and he would always be part of a social circle. Green set his tray down on a secluded table in the lunchroom, stabbing his fork in the crispy, burnt tater tot, and taking a short pause before bitterly munching down.

The brunet felt an odd sensation welling in the pit of his stomach—he ruled out the possibility of his hunger—and slowly realized he was truly an oddball: he could invade the privacy of anyone's mind, he was deemed attractive to a handful of girls that could become his girlfriend in an instant, he also had friends left and right. It was a question whether it was just the pressure of the tedious cycle in his four years when nothing sincerely appealed to his interest. He could suggest everything felt monochromatic around him: he was not unhappy, not in the slightest, but even he became aware over the years _something_ was missing. His emerald eyes scanned the desolate cafeteria, giving an attempt to survey what the small space could provide to his questions, but he shook his head disappointingly and chugged the small carton of orange juice.

There was no room to complain, several people gathered in the cafeteria to eat their breakfast, several occupants' mind completely blank of ongoing thoughts to just silently digest the dull atmosphere of their Monday morning. He bit back his startled gasp as a chair slammed beside his table, the occupant eagerly leaning forward, elbows propped on the counter and his hands supporting either side of his cheekbones. Gold flashed him a neat set of pearly whites, his smile radiating his energetic energy in the gray morning, his amber eyes staring intensely at the discarded biscuit beside the scrambled eggs on Green's plate.

Green regarded him with an equally fitting smile. "Mooch off someone else."

Gold feigned an expression of hurt complemented with a melodramatic sniffle. "How could you not care that I could be starving here?" Wiping an invisible tear from the corner of his eye, Gold fished a spork hidden in the pocket of his cherry-red sweater, stabbing the prongs in the syrupy-drenched fruits Green set aside in a separate plastic saucer. "There's nothing like the taste of high fructose corn syrup to start the morning! Breakfast of champions, I tell ya."

Green raised the carton of orange juice, his voice laced with an amused tone. "Or the taste of partially frozen concentrated juice."

Gold raised another piece of fruit to his mouth yet his focus drifted slowly from his raging stomach growling to his redheaded best friend he has been eying in his three years in high school. Green rolled his eyes: Gold denied having any romantic feelings for Silver—or rather claimed he would never become a homosexual in general—yet his thoughts, as much as Green never intended to pry, were absolutely shameless. Ranging from the painfully sweet ideas to give him a small token or a strange present to the dreamy gaze that would indicate Gold's inward fantasies he would describe thoughtfully—and enough to make the brunet cringe, especially when the ramblings began while enjoying a slice of pizza in his lunch hour—piece by piece that would border NC-17.

_'Oh god, I want to pin him down, take off his clothes, and fu—'_

Green parted his focus from his food, his head shaking from mingled disbelief and disgust. Oh Mondays.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't salivate near my tray of food, it's gross," he said with a weary sigh.

Gold's back straightened; he blinked several times to recompose his behavior, a strained laugh echoing the empty cafeteria. His nervous compulsion to conceal his evident infatuation with Silver constantly lead him to brushing the matter off with terribly constructed joke—Green laughed regardless, it was so horrible he couldn't restrain the string of chuckles that would escape past his lips—or merely laugh. Thankfully, for the sake of not aggravating his Monday depression, Gold chose the latter and insisted on eating from the half-empty saucer of fruits.

"Don't judge me, it's not my fault my mannerism haven't surpassed the fourth grade. My mom spoiled me too much," Gold huffed defensively; in mock rage he stabbed the white grape with a little more force than necessary. Green rolled his eyes, trying to salvage the temporary bliss of his half-burnt, half-crispy tater tots in his ever eventful morning.

"By the way," Gold spoke rudely with his mouth full of crushed fruits, small pieces of the breakfast's skin flew on Green's tray. Goodness, it took every cell in Green's body not to slam his head against the plastic countertop repeatedly. The amber-eyed junior may have been the most social and hyperactive student the school has ever seen, however he had his major faults: failing to read the atmosphere, too brash, extremely and yet unintentionally discourteous, and too much a _morning person._ Suppressing the tempting compulsion to leave the table the brunet nodded for the ebony-haired to continue.

Flooded with relief, Gold swallowed his food before continuing. The junior raised his utensil, mindlessly twirling its edges between his fingers and asked, "What happened to that girl you hooked up with a week ago?"

"Broke up. She was too clingy."

It only became apparent to Green how lifeless his senior year has become especially in the cafeteria: the seniors that are fully on their way to college were very much missed for their antics: the school's very persuasive vegan, N, constantly protective over the hot-headed Black when he approached White—again, he'll never forget that blowjob.

"You're _single?_"

Green wiped his hands clean from the remains of the ketchup smearing his fingertips with a napkin, his jade-colored eyes not leveling with Gold's amber hues widening wide as saucers. "I know, right? Who could resist this?" Joking blandly, Green ran his hand over his hair smoothly and very slowly for emphasis. "Ah, but seriously. Y'know…it's not all that surprising."

_'Girls kiss the very floor you walk on, you prick!'_ Gold paused to exclaim loudly in his head, the reaction caused Green to cringe how very vocal Gold's inner musings could be. "I wonder if anyone would ever reject your advances," Gold paused thoughtfully in silence, he shook his head when the answer came to him without any mental input. "Nah! Unheard of!"

"No one can," Green jeered teasingly.

"Oh yeah? Fifty bucks," Gold challenged, absently wiggling the spork between his thumb and forefinger, amber eyes briefly surveying the vacant lunchroom. "Fifty bucks to get that guy over there to like you. What was his name…? Red?"

Green raised a brow: fifty for a small challenge? How hard could it be? Although Gold had very little confidence in him—'_There's no way_ _someone like Red'll like him._ _Fifty bucks, here I come! Cha-ching!'—_he could easily admit he has yet to be rejected formally although he was never one to make the approach as he could easily detect someone nearing him with their running tangent of thoughts, and he would never deny it alarmed him especially in the worst possible timing. In his last year of high school he arrived late to class nearly four times in the last five months since the semester began: his excuse? Lessen the headache of someone's thought bubble downgrading him with every passing hiccupping sob and an excessive amount of water works.

The challenge was cruel, insensitive, heartless, and had the highest chance the outcome will definitely have an _ugly _end_, _but it was a free fifty practically! Besides, there was not much to do regardless.

Senior year was a time to relax but also a time to stress the impending graduation that will mark, a few months later, the start of college. Unlike most seniors skittering around the halls to sign their names to win scholarships, attend interviews, or slaving away their lives to regain their credits after slacking off the previous years, Green never carried much of a concern. He was educated, his grades were phenomenal—even if he was caught one or twice resting his head on the desk, snoozing soundly during the teacher's lectures—his grandfather was renowned wildlife researcher, including the interactions of several animals to human life in his published journals. What college, what university, what _anything _will deny the grandson of Oak admittance?

Regardless of his exceptional performance—his grandfather was always kind enough to give his gratitude to Green for several animals under his care. In his delicate age there were tasks difficult to handle when the anxiety of the animals was at its peak, the creatures would have no qualms to attack with all their might—he had quit his previous job as a cashier at a local retail store. His grandfather and sister were persistent to remind him he needn't worry about his personal expenses or any other. He enjoyed buying himself a new pair of nikes without having to bother his grandfather or his sister – and seriously, he would never turn down an easy fifty. The brunet could leisurely use the amount he earned from the petty bet to buy himself and his family dinner, new clothes, or something trivial he usually finds himself purchasing.

Following Gold's line of vision, his orbs settled on the sight of a marble-white teen nibbling on a blueberry bagel, his attention fixated on Blue chatting up a storm with him yet his expression seemed completely mesmerized staring at the arched ceiling—then again it was Monday morning. Who could ever be smiling…oh wait—his lips in a fine line between frowning and eating sluggishly. He rested the bagel down on the plastic plate, nodded once to feign acknowledgement to the talkative brunet, and stuffed his free hand in his black-and-red messenger bag, the flap bent lazily from the hasty swipe of his hand, and then he slipped a piece of paper to Blue. Blue excitedly drew out her notebook, her hand gripping her pencil firmly to quickly copy the paper's content into her own lined paper. With her distracted and quiet, Red fished his iPod Touch from the pocket of his oversized red hoodie, pristine thin fingers flicked through the touch screen absentmindedly, and seemingly pleased with his choice he pocketed it away after pressing his finger on the selected song. Red puffed a weak breath of air on his black fringes, several loose strands of ebony hair falling near his large fire-red eyes, he then raised both hands to adjust the black Dr. Dre headphones on his ears before returning to his modestly light breakfast.

Well. If Blue was able to befriend Red then perhaps he might not seem as unapproachable as Green first regarded him.

_'–I'll get myself a shitload of food at a buffet. And then invite Silver. Oh god, this bet is so mine! Unless he chickens out…'_

Green drank the last drops of beverage inside his quart-sized carton of juice, very much amused at the mere prospect of Gold being the victor. It was not happening. The brunet snickered under his breath, resisting the savage urge to _laugh. _The senior was more than eager to begin at any given point; Gold did bring about an amusing challenge in the darkest hours of his terrible and moody Monday morning. There would be less of a distraction in the cafeteria's vacant morning, giving him an advantage to have Red's thoughts uninterrupted or droned from noisy interferences—

"You're on," he concluded confidently, startling Gold from his own train of thought.

Gold blinked. "You for real?" '_Green is going for a dude! This is some legit shit up in here!' _"You're not just playing me?"

Green rolled his eyes. "I'm not."

_'I can't tell if he's lying.'_

The senior brunet shook his head in exasperation. "Of course I'm not lying! Why…! Uhm," realizing his wording without Gold actually posing a question, Green made wild hand gestures to sway the odd look Gold was giving him. "Is there, err, a time limit or something?"

Gold either disregarded his friend's peculiar behavior or completely forgot when the excitement was glinting in the bright amber hues, his wicked smile almost personally proving Green will willingly admit defeat first. "Starting today 'til…anytime before spring. Deal?" Gold proposed slyly, outstretching his hand.

A nod and handshake later declared their bet was for the taking, even if the prize is a meager fifty that, he realized a little later, will not get him anything of great value. However their competition was all in good-natured fun, not for the person of choice per se, between two teenagers who had nothing left to preoccupy their Monday morning besides eating the rest of the free period away or chugging down artificial preservatives down their throats. The two teens parted ways, one striding confidently to the lunch table occupied by Red and Blue, the other stalking towards another group of victims to pester or mooch off.

It came to a decent amount of surprise Red's thoughts have yet to revolve around the grandeur size of Blue's breast: a fair amount of cleavage exposed from her band-name v-neck shirt, beads from her gaudy blue-silver necklace trapped between the presentable spacing and faint exposure of her neon-pink bra, or taking a moment to complement her unblemished face, her appealing and seductive eyeliner, the plumpness of her coral-pink glossed lips—however such an image was slightly ruined regardless as she was completely absorbed in her work, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in the utmost concentration—the cascading brown hair sweeping past her shoulders. It was a shame he broken up with her in the beginning of his senior year, everyone admired her when she wore her favorite short skirts in the summer or skin-tight jeans to complement her desirable ass. She was eyed by hormone-driven teens on a daily basis, how could Red not give not even a momentary damn?

Green furrowed his brows for a brief second. Hell! Blue even let her breast rest on the table, her body leaning forward and giving enough ample view of her most prominent feature. Red's mind was completely blank save for the song playing in his head.

_'I'll say it to be proud, won't have my life turn upside down. Says the man with some, with some gold forged plan. Of life so incomplete, like weights strapped around my feet. Tread careful one step at a time.'_

Blue tossed her pencil in her tote bag, mewling contentedly she finished her assignment with enough time to spare, and finally she cracked her knuckles before thanking Red graciously and promising to text him later.

_'Please don't,'_ Red inwardly pleaded. Ah yes, Blue was entirely too endearing enough to overwhelm.

"Like, move aside Green! I've got places to go!" She huffed in mild irritation, slightly too childish enough to rationalize she could swerve around him to go to such "places."

"Say 'please,' your highness!" Green commented brashly, riling her further for his own amusement.

"How about _no_?"

"Do it."

Blue snarled, her bright white teeth flashing dangerously, in her impatience she stomped the heel of her white boots on Green's shoes viciously, and with a barely audible 'hmph' she left. "Dammit! That woman still acts like such a barbarian," he hissed under his breath. Despite the sheering pain in his toes pulsating through his leg he coughed to regain his composure, securing Blue's seat and flashing his own charming smile.

But even that moment his smile had almost faltered when the tactless Red sighed loudly through his nose, his eyes fixed in the opposite direction as if Green was a horrendous eyesore to society that he had to be in company of.

_'Another annoyance. Ignore him and he'll probably go away.'_

What a cheeky brat, the brunet thought moodily.

Green leaned forward to press the headphones down to fall on the teen's shoulders. For a fraction of a second Green contemplated running for dear life because the red eyes were maliciously narrowing, his expression evidently displaying his dismay over the unwanted company even _daring _to touch his headphones and interrupt the flow of his music.

Green retracted himself away from the ebony-haired teen. Casually he rested one hand under his chin, quirking his head a little in mock interest. "I'm Green," he remarked in a cool, friendly-like manner.

That, however, deflated once Red propped the headphones back on his ears. "Good for you," he answered quietly, his tone of voice adamantly against the encouragement of their short-lived verbal exchange.

Well. So much for an easy win.

If Red wanted to be difficult on the worst day of the school week then so be it.

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><p><strong>AN**: Watch this not even be updated for ages;; Uh. If this is actually liked I'll be happy to continue? Like I said before, odd plot is odd. (Oh eww. I actually reduced my imagination to take on something that relates to school? Whattheshit.)

(What I did revise, but doesn't mean it's perfect, was mostly on the airplane. [Stupid flight delays!] Dat awkward moment if somebody sneaked tidbits of this.)

**Songs used**:

Orchard of Mines _by _Globus

**Edit**: 03/02/13 - I had to fix a very big error that bothered me for a very long time. It hardly altered anything but it was vitally important so I can have a good basis when this fic finally finishes. I apologize in advance, this mistake is entirely sloppy of me.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: I'm continuing this? Whhhaatt. Anyway. The language of this really is going to keep its familiarity with high school slang, or the slang I've been exposed to (this mostly pertains to a specific character…and I bet you know who I'm talking about!) Trust me, the slang of my high school is contagious and has a 100% of redefining your speech or picking up on the accent. Mfw people in Utah told me I pronounce "your" as "yer," "water" as "wader," and "Manhattan" as "Menhadden." /ashamed.  
><strong>Extra note<strong>: Everything is still the same, including warnings and stuff. There might be a few mistakes in the document I might have overlooked by mistake. Sorry! Characterization may or may not be perfected, but I have a strong feeling it never will! At least I'm trying, that has to count for something, right? Ahaha.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Any brand name you recognize certainly does not belong to me. And Pokémon is owned by the Nintendo Company, another thing I have no connections to nor will I ever in this lifetime. But I do have dreams of buying Red and Green from the company's design and therefore create a very squeal-worthy BL game out of them. I mean wat.

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><p>Red didn't hate people.<p>

If anything it left a sour taste in his mouth when someone disturbed while him while he was either eating—although he hardly consumed much in a single sitting due to his small appetite, Red was unfortunate to have a hunger that would agree otherwise during his classes. The staggering amount of rice krispies, fruit snacks, and granola fruits bars stuffed in a small pouch within his messenger bag was all to appease the loud rumbling after his light breakfast in the cafeteria as well as to digest the extra sugary content to maintain his focus rather than napping through a lesson—doing his class work when he was fully awake, or whenever someone laid even a single finger on his headphones. An ordinary morning of groggily slipping on his adissage, tugging his bathrobe lazily from the upper corner of his bathroom door, dozing off in the comfort of the warm water sprinkling from the shower head, sluggishly clothing himself soon after, and finally using the remainder of his time to give his energetic fawn brindle mouse attention until the two-minute warning signal for his bus' arrival.

An ordinary morning stretching his legs on the seat, the hood of his hoodie raised and folded behind his head to cushion the uncomfortable head thumps when driving past the road with one too many speed bumps, his large headphones blasting music in his ears as his eyelids grew heavy dreamily watching the scenic passing background of the gentle rising blue stretching across the horizon that soon became just a hazy setting. When the bus came to a complete stop the lights overhead flickered for brief moment, the occupants groaning upon their arrival, and Red would blink several times at the simultaneous rickety movement of several rushing off the bus to enter the school in the cold morning, only this time several female students rushed like their life depended on it—namely Blue yet Red hardly wondered how she could wear a skirt several times in near-chilling weather—for the small amount of drizzle fraying their hair "they had done" over the weekend. With a disbelieving shake of his head Red would then proceed to fish his phone from his messenger bag to send a text to his mother like his usual morning dictates.

His finger cruised through the touch screen to receive her picture message of his beloved plump mouse—in the picture it was nibbling on a tiny piece of strawberry, the traces of the fruit messily spotted on its cheeks—so he can start the day in a decently good mood. Pikachu, the first name to be conjured that day, was the sole reason Red hardly ate breakfast in the morning: the little creature occupied most of his time before leaving for school, he decided he would rather allow the time go by spending it with Pikachu to then later utilize the free period in the morning to join the melancholic-spirited line for breakfast. And it was an ordinary morning he would visibly twitch when the extremely nerve-racking Blue would pass a few endearing comments along with several pleas to copy his homework. To distract himself from her mindless banter he slipped his iPod Touch out and situated the headphones on his ears. From there he could expect nothing more throughout the day but return home to eat dinner, engage in a one-sided conversation with his mother—he acknowledged her words fully, he just had nothing helpful or necessary to input so he nodded when she talked—finish his homework, then play with Pikachu until the pair eventually fell asleep.

He heaved a sigh of relief as Blue decided to leave early after copying his worksheet, his focus ebbing away as he slowly contemplated purchasing Pikachu a larger wheel to replace the old wheel in its already spoiled homing. Distractingly echoing the lyrics in his head Red considered asking Ruby to create a new set of pillows for Pikachu after the rodent had practically chewed its way through the bedding during the weekend—

However his musings were cut short when he spotted a stranger approaching from the corner of his eye. This was not in his ordinary morning; Red thoroughly did not appreciate it.

He really didn't hate people but he preferred silence over someone radiating a haughty aura _touching his headphones._ When the stranger introduced himself as Green with such an easygoing smile, not even daring to apologize for his initial rudeness, Red could only inwardly hope the brunet would feel affronted by his apathetic attitude.

Red was filled with a strong, overbearing feeling as to correctly peg Green as an infuriatingly obstinate individual, much to his dismay. That gnawing sensation of this strained situation ruined his mood, ruined his appetite, _ruined_ his ordinary morning.

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><p>Green blinked dumbfounded as Red dusted the crumbs off his lap before standing up from his seat, he fastened his messenger bag across his shoulder, and finally shot the brunet a stony stare. Although Green was sure he received the mental middle finger from the unfriendly ebony-haired teenager he did cringe when he distinguished the roaring laugh amongst the small crowd nearing him. Gold was wiping a tear out of his eye, his laughter nearly subsiding from the combination of the lack of breath and clutching his stomach for so long, his joyous mood obnoxiously raised tenfold as he offered the brunet senior a pitiful shoulder pat.<p>

"I thought I would never see the day," he laughed even further between his ragged breathing, "the day Green tries to bag and _fails. _Oh this is priceless!"_ 'Fuck yes! People are capable of rejecting him! If Red can, so can Silver!'_

The brunet senior felt inclined to point out he valued his life to ever consider making a move on Silver, however he digressed to absorb the shock of someone actually rejecting him—who ever rejected the chance of having a discussion with _Green_? Nobody!—with all their might. Only Silver ever seemed like he had no desire to associate himself with Green. Then again, Green thought distractingly, Silver never appeared to have the desire to associate himself with anyone for that matter – Gold was the only exception for his persistence throughout the years. His verdant orbs held its gaze on Red shoving both hands in the pocket of his hoodie, a strange compulsion led Green to admire the black skinny jeans sculpting a nice firm shape of the teen's ass.

What the fuck, Green realized in disgust. Admiring? Goodness no. Fifty dollars should be on his mind, the only ass he knew was worth admiring was Blue. Ignoring the ongoing thought bubbles running through Gold's mind that involved different scenarios Red could reject Green again for the laughs, Green forced his eyes to drift at the solid black converse Red was wearing.

Red stopped midway before exiting the cafeteria, his movements halted once the two sophomores, Ruby and Sapphire, greeted him cheerfully. He could not distinguish the conversation from the distance even if he gave an honest attempt, rather it was a short-lived exchange, and finally with an appreciative nod Ruby handed over a small parcel then briskly waved Red's departure out of the cafeteria. After what felt like an arrow shot through his ego, Green steadily realized Red would rather befriend sophomores than him! Chucking Red's tray in the garbage bin—at least he had enough consideration to toss the teen's mess despite the evident hostility—Green followed Ruby and Sapphire talking animatedly near the round table directly across from his current spot. Trekking towards the pair he slammed his fist on the counter, quieting the two second-year students from their lively exchanges, a pair of red and blue orbs redirecting their attention on the senior.

Sapphire, realizing who slammed their table, perked a bright smile. "Mornin'."

Ruby crinkled his nose._ 'Cargo pants are so out of season. Could they look anymore hideous on him?'_

"Yeah, morning," Green greeted curtly, his expression riddled with frustration. No, he refused to retort. His cargo pants were perfectly fine! Nothing looks hideous on him! "You," he said pointedly to Ruby, the sophomore offered him a bored look that could have matched Red's expression.

Green suddenly began despising the color red for childish reasons, namely because Ruby seemed just as bothered having him around and for capturing Red's eye roll perfectly on cue. Stifling a resigned sigh, Ruby lowered his gaze on his fingernails, responding without even bothering to give the senior direct eye contact.

"What is it?"

Green craned his neck: no sight of Gold for certain this time, no one to laugh at his misery to recognize that there were students within the school who would rather talk into an unplugged telephone for hours than speak with Green Oak.

"How did you become friends with Red? He didn't even want to talk to me!"

_'Who would?'_ The scarlet-eyed sophomore shrugged, clearly disinterested. "He's not much of a talker if you haven't realized."

No shit, Green thought sneeringly.

"But if you must know…" he paused quietly for a second, he tipped his head to have his red eyes lock on the pools of viridian. "He likes when Pikachu is spoiled rotten. I create cushioned bedding for it on a weekly basis and customized garments during the winter. It's not really hard to befriend him…"

"Seein' as ya already got'em peeved he might not want'ta be friends, ya'know," Sapphire quipped._ 'Or ever.'_

"Are you both saying I have no chance?"

Sapphire folded her hands neatly, her lips perking upward. "Yeah!"

_'And never will!'_ the pair chirped bemusedly in their heads.

The two may have continued their prattle unaware or completely ignored Green intentionally when he flinched. Such an exposure to negativity or partial negativity towards him was such an unruly eye-opener, however he felt confident he could find plenty that would be more than eager to talk to him.

What was there not to like of Green _Oak?_

* * *

><p>"Oh wow. Even though everyone is straggin' in the halls I still made it in time? Sweetness," Gold declared unnecessarily loud as he walked into his new homeroom, the evident sugar hype still leaving the teen jittery and excitedly bouncing on the heels of his sneakers.<p>

Green narrowed his eyes sharply at the ceiling, cursing inwardly at no one in particular: he had the worst luck in the world to begin the marking period with a zoology class, an even amount of juniors and seniors dividing themselves in their grade order like a fine field line the other was not allowed to tamper. Green could give less of a damn and planted himself on one of four available seats in the back row beside the only window inside the tightly compacted classroom. He felt miserably sleepy and his mood worsened trying to focus on the withering potted plant rather than Gold pulling the seat next to the brunet, boisterously rambling about the coincidence they would be in a classroom together again.

The relief Green felt that his welding class with Gold was over the previous Friday was indescribable. Never again did he have to endure an overwhelming paranoia when Gold lit the torch with the striker _right near his hair_, or the many moments he had the fire blazing like a blowtorch when tightening the knob to increase the size of flame rather than _reducing the damn thing._ No, it seemed like everything was predetermined to have Gold invade his classes during his last year of high school, the once highly appealing assumption his last year would consist of relaxation was terribly disfigured when Gold appeared.

The brunet reasoned it could be worse, he could have Blue acting like a complete bat-shit crazy banshee determined to have Green covered in injuries even if he was to blame for enraging her normally composed temper. Green nodded occasionally to indicate he was listening to Gold—which he wasn't for various reasons—until he felt the wincing pain causing his eyebrows to knit together: the class came in a swarm, some were talking loudly enough for others to overhear, some newly introduced to the entire cluster sat quietly and thought aloud to themselves. Several were reading the latest tweets in their mind, others were reading to themselves a novel, but he found himself chuckling faintly—despite hissing when the pulsating sting intensified—that someone was reading about porn on their phone.

"Then I'm like—yo, Green, you look like shit. You alright there?" Gold asked worriedly, his amber eyes reflecting the honesty of his concern.

Green forced a lopsided smile; he brought both his hands forward to rub his temples. "Uh, yeah. Just a morning headache, no big deal."

Gold frowned. "If you say so…" The junior redirected his attention to the two students arriving a second before the warning bell rung, immediately he clapped a hand against his mouth to muffle his laughter. After being given a few brief seconds to regain his composure Gold tugged the hem of Green's sleeve. "Green, look who's also in our class!"

At first Green was going to remind Gold he was not in the mood to give any regard to the small blonde girl looking around the classroom, clearly wondering if there were any leftover seats, but he would be concerned being anywhere near her: her long ponytail seemed fully capable of whiplashing someone in the face in a windy day. Shaking the silly notion from his initial perspective on the student she was followed by Red baring a very lazy expression on his pale features; his large headphones fixed comfortably on his ears.

Gold snickered, reliving Green's rejection for his amusement. "Who would have thought. You mad, bro?"

The bet. He could do this. _Green Oak_ can do _anything._

Having the attention span of a flea, Gold deadpanned after locking his gaze on a male student a row in front of him. _'Is he seriously scratching his ass?'_

_'Oh god! I can't believe he's dating that hoe! Ugh, stupid beyotch!'_

_'When is this class starting?'_

_'So skip third and forth block…'_

Green leaned forward on the desk to relax his arm clutching his forehead protectively – too many people were thinking aloud, too many were louder than others, and too many just _cannot stop talking. _The pain was tolerable to an extent for he suffered worst occasions when he was invited—or practically dragged—to spirit week assemblies, but nothing compared to the incident when he was reduced to tears a few years back when his grandfather invited him to a baseball stadium. A crowded classroom he can and will endure.

What is an eighty minute headache compared to the remainder of his Monday's three classes?

_'You have to be kidding me.'_

Green raised his head towards the voice eying him with a disappointed grimace, unfortunately for Red he might have discovered the only seats left where those of the unoccupied table right beside the brunet. Without a single word or consulting his decision with his apparent blonde companion, Red resigned himself with a strong amount of reluctance to claim the empty seat beside Green, directly after Red and near the window sat the girl moderately confused but surprisingly content with the seating arrangements.

_'If he so much as bothers Yellow, I swear…'_ Red trailed off moodily, although his tone was laced with a certain weariness there was also a prominent warning in his words he was fully intending to uphold.

The teacher introduced herself to the class, checked her roster for her students, handed everyone a syllabus before seating herself on her seat and typing on her laptop, signaling everyone's freedom for the day until tomorrow. Green took full advantage of that.

Green rested one hand on the table to fiddle with a highlighter he used to mark his syllabus, with his free hand he raised his finger to smoothly press down on the teen's headphone. If he wasn't subtly threatened to be maimed and thrown into a river by Red's piercing narrowing glare Green would have rested his arm on the back of Red's seat to purposely invade the others' personal space, instead Green let his eyelids fall half-lidded, his tongue running over the top front of his teeth provocatively.

"I knew you couldn't stay away from me, nobody can."

Red cringed in disgust; his lack of space from Green was not the sole reason for his blatant reaction. _'It's called a mint,' _he inwardly hissed, his nose crinkling from the odor of the brunet's breath.

Green was never more thankful Gold was preoccupied watching a music video on his phone, the junior was suppressing the hilarity reddening his face to the humorous homosexual hints of 'Bromance' than watch Green's cocky smile immediately form into a fine line – what a blow to his self-confidence! Even if Red wanted to be a complete and utter asshole, or at least in Green's opinion, he was not going to let his enthusiasm falter when not even a day has passed since he introduced himself to Red. He was like Gold for goodness sake: everybody warmed up to Gold, _everybody_ warmed up to Green as well regardless of the circumstances.

"Why so angry?" Green hummed quietly, his finger conspicuously snaking to have a touch of the shaggy black hair. "What's there not to like of me?"

Red rolled his eyes. _'Plenty.'_

Disregarding his rudeness, Green continued pleasingly. "Give me a chance and we could even become friends, best friends," the brunet lapped his tongue over his mouth, "_close friends._"

Just before the sneaking finger could come any closer to Red's neck, the fire-eyed teen snatched Green's wrist with a frighteningly vigorous force and stealth, causing Green to blink in honest surprise while biting back the twinge of pain radiating around the tightening grip. Red's warning, as Green assumed it read, seemed along the lines of 'Touch me and I swear by all that is holy I will gut you.'

"Feeling too shy to actually hold my hand?" he teased playfully, wriggling his fingers to feel the flow of the blood course through his hand before the restraint would make him feel the prickly sensation.

Red scoffed, through his exasperation he released Green's wrist then closed his eyes briefly for a few seconds to alleviate the migraine forming after dealing with the most obnoxious and questionably homosexual individual alive. It was odd in some strange sort Green had to choose him of all the hundreds of students to tediously bother.

_'I swear this guy is like a diarrhea…'_ Red thought with a heavy sigh. He scooted his chair closer to Yellow, to busily preoccupy himself he rummaged through his messenger bag to extract some form of food, namely for the sugar, to heighten his dulling senses craving sleep. Green was already physically and mentally exhausting him.

Green did a double take at that comment, now officially glad Gold was distracted.

He would get a fucking hoot out of this, Green inwardly lamented.

Gold pocketed his phone away, offering Green a pity pat. "I overheard along the way. Looks like he doesn't want to answer you! Am I sensing the imminent defeat of a loser, Green?"

Green, on the other hand, flipped him the finger without looking.

Standing from his chair to inform the teacher of his needed bathroom break, Green trudged through the hall into the bathroom to turn the faucet on and splash cold water on his face. Keeping himself attentive towards Red had lower his raging headache of the students actively thinking loud enough he felt his ears would bleed at any given second, but it would only work for so long. Those occupying the stalls were still submitting to their inner sanctum to talk, the hallways littered with several students roaming were talking. Glaring harshly at the compact pill case he brought along before leaving the classroom resting in the palm of his hand—even though he was trying to block the interferences to the best of his abilities—Green finally caved sliding his back against the wall.

Filthy floor or not he needed a break: Red was doing him no justice but he would not deny it rather thrilling to encounter something new. Something different.

_'Fuckin' stalls! The urinals just had to be under repair today!'_

_'This day is some real bullshit.'_

Gold was truly determined he was going to become the victor over their little bet. That outcome will become highly unlikely: he, Green Oak, was never a loser. Red would come to like him.

Just like all the rest.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: You reviewers are just too amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: I'm on chapter three of this? O mai. Where is this dedication coming from like sweet lordy I can't even- Aha, mfw I'm actually trying to do simultaneous updates with other things that only ends up as failures;; Spring break, y u make me so lazy? Oh. Is it weird how I typed this up while listening to the remix version of the primal dialga theme? Unfitting music is good unfitting music :BB  
><strong>Extra note<strong>: Okay. I really am raking my brain here. This is what I get for winging a new story: no clue whatsoever whether this will be a short-fic or not. I think it is. I hope it is. :x Don't mind me. Please enjoy…I guess? Err. Same thing here too with my apologies if you find some type of error or something. I forgot to mention this is set in the beginning of February.  
><strong>Special thanks<strong>: OMG, THANK YOU AGAIN (for like the x time today) _Perpetual Dreams_ for giving this a check. Ugh. I hate doing it. ;_; Did you know I had the worst luck? Just as soon as I was gonna change the document the server for FFN crashes, well for me it did. My face -_-  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: I really don't like the word "faggot" unless it's all in good humor (…uhm, well I've been exposed to it used in a friendly manner if that makes sense?) or used artistically to meet a character's personality and or speech. It's only mentioned once anyway :x  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Everything still applies…I own nothing and never will;;

* * *

><p>It took balls to allow a girl to play with a guy's hair in high school unless they had a close relationship, however Green doubted the possibility Red and the blonde girl—that could easily be mistaken as a thirteen-year old—had such a connection.<p>

Yet she was having the time of her life parting Red's thick ebony fringes to one side using the brightest three cherry-red bobby pins, she giggled shyly adding a questionably adorable smiling cupcake hair clip beside the bobby pins. Green bit down of his lower lip to suppress the fit of chuckles dangerously close of slipping out: Red's stoic expression staring blankly at the smartboard did not fit the image of a male wearing what could possibly be, in Green's opinion, the gayest hair clip known to man. And oddly, not to offend Red's appearance, the clips did not ridicule his appearance but actually suited him in some strange, demented way.

Not that Green would say anything. As much as he loved the opportunity to tease someone (read: Silver) he felt it was best to sit down, accept the orange starburst—Green was grateful Gold was oblivious to Red's snide inward remark about the scent of his breath, otherwise he would have kindly told Gold to go fuck himself out of spite. Momentary mannerisms be damned—without comment, and rest his head on his arms while bemusedly watching the red-eyed student in fascination. He long noticed Red's body stiffened at Green's reappearance, evidently displeased he might be pestered for the remainder of the class, though Green put a brief halt to his advances to regain the awareness he returned to the rowdy classroom.

Yellow reclaimed her seat cheerfully, after straightening her dress distractingly she lifted her gaze to admire the clips in Red's hair, in turn he seemed unfazed nor bothered to remove the hair accessories. Seeing as she was done and pleased, Red removed his headphone and slipped his iPod touch into the girl's small hands; she excitedly chided her eagerness to play taptap revenge whilst situating the large headgear on her ears. Seeing as the unfriendly Red was capable of unspoken kindness and consideration put a damper on Green's mood, he tried to approach Red on the worst days of his week only to be responded with an exasperated tone along with a disposition of damning indifference – just recalling that moment grated Green's nerve.

Green wondered whether Red was unlikeable with everyone or just a handful. It was mind-boggling: in all honesty what was there not to like of the athletic star of the school? He was fully aware he was impressive, that enough should have Red properly introducing himself.

He was made of greatness. Green earned respect and expected it, no exceptions.

Then again, from an outsider's perspective, he was intentionally badgering Red—But not without reason! he argued meekly—to the point of minor aggravation. That alone would give Red reason, however the bet over fifty dollars was well embedded that he had no reason to care for Red's hostility as long as he eventually, before the arrival of spring, feels some sort of attachment despite their turbulent beginning.

Red'll warm up, the brunet thought confidently—

Much to his dismay—although his day in the past hour has been riddled with displeasure, no sane person should have to suffer breathing the same air as Green—the scarlet-eyed teen was faced with the ongoing annoyance as Green propped his arm on the back of his seat, his free hand resting on the vacant space of Red's chair much too close for comfort. He would break a few fingers if Green so much as dared to have his hands roam anywhere near his thighs, consciously he huddled his legs closer together and scooted away to be nearer to Yellow instead…

Which did not work regardless of his blunt efforts.

Green leaned forward, disregarding his previous self-conscious stab at his ego for his mouth's odor, admiring how quickly Red's eyebrow began to twitch for invading the others' personal space so easily.

"Wanna taste the rainbow?" he asked silky to gauge a reaction that would definitely amuse him without fail.

Red shook his head in disbelief, he raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose to quell the aggravation welling up inside – how he desperately sought peace in such a bleary time of day. Unlike his neutral disposition his thoughts were ranging from hostile boarding near murderous: '_How about I stick a-_'

—it will just take some time.

* * *

><p>Green sighed through his nose, his weary smile relieved after he sneaked a glance at Gold's schedule. Although he would have to share the same first period with a high-strung Gold in the early morning, the rest of his classes were completely Gold-free unless the junior made a last-minute schedule change, which has done before much to Green's terrible crummy luck. Green assumed Gold decided to invade his supposedly relaxing senior year even further out of spite or unintentional amusement. God knows what the hell processes through Gold's mind these days, Green thought sneeringly, dreadfully recalling the mingled expressions of longing and lust.<p>

Which is something Green definitely had no desire to witness while eating breakfast.

Red seemed at ease once Gold began pestering Green with some mindless teenage angst for the rest of the time frame: fifty _beautiful_ minutes without having someone, well…he had not even the faintest idea whether Green was intentionally harassing him or choosing his victim to unleash his inner queerness he concealed from the abnormally large and unneeded group of friends hounding after him in a pack. Having allowed Yellow to use his iPod and headphones, the ebony-haired teen was left bored enough to browse the internet through his phone as a distraction – it was certainly not his choice to overhear Gold's conversation, then again he was a loud, obnoxious junior that possibly has never heard of an "inside voice."

"He's such a _dick_," whined Gold louder than necessary. And that is something else he could not comprehend: why did Gold insist on being such a noisy nuisance when Green was sitting _right next to him._

"You know me, right? I don't even like to talk about my fe—no, wait, wording it like that makes me sound like such a fag. Ugh. Goddammit. But you get the gist of what I'm trying to say?"

Green nodded indifferently.

"There was this one time he went to my place to have dinner. My mom was out for awhile so we were left to eat at the table and all that jazz, so finally I'm like, 'Silver, why do you always get so pissed off at me being your best friend? You always make it seem like you don't wanna be at all! Unlike you I'm trying!' And you know what he said after I even gave a fuck? 'Pass the salt.' What. The. Shit," he drawled out slowly to empathize the last of his words, in his anger he began clawing into the fabric of his jeans.

The senior pushed his seat back so he could rest his legs on the counter of the table, he folded his hands to support his head as he tipped the chair back slightly. "How about this," he paused for a second to yawn before continuing offhandedly, "consult me after you two resolved some serious sexual tension. I'm positive that will do the world, and more importantly _me_, a huge favor."

"Oh fuck me," Gold groaned melodramatically, honestly curious _why he bothered_ to discuss anything with the senior.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Green said, his lips perking a malicious smirk.

Red shook his head, heavily contemplating whether his guidance counselor would allow him a schedule change. He couldn't bear this nonsense until the third marking period, he _couldn't._ If he was subjected to the worst-case scenario being permanently trapped in the same classroom as Green he was at least going to utilize the time to go on a search engine in desperate hope that 'How to get a persistent motherfucker to leave you alone' would actually contain at least several results on the webpage.

* * *

><p><em>'This is ridiculous,' <em>thought a very irritated Silver crossing his arms close to his chest, one leg folded over the other as he directed his attention on the syllabus to avoid direct eye contact with Green. They were assigned partners according to those that entered the room for future experiments or presentations for marine biology; he damned himself he should have taken his time before entering the class with a groan to spot the brunet senior walking casually into his second period class.

"You should have been born a girl, Silver," Green pointed out lazily, and in an honest attempt to rile Silver further he raised a finger to curl around the shortened red hair. After having his hand swat away rather violently the senior continued, "It would justify how moody you can get."

_'Eat shit, ass wipe.'_

Ever the friendly Silver. Putting a damper on everyone's mood since his birth.

"Your name could be Silvia!" Green insisted heartily, his suggestion causing him to laugh at Silver's 'I-will-impale-you-and-feed-your-inwards-to-orphans' glare. "So…Silvia, what caused your lovers' spat with Gold this time?"

_'Call me Silvia one more time and I swear I will gut you, fucktard!' _

Green was not fazed by the threats, he had been fully aware of Silver's unlikable personality ever since he was a sophomore in high school and Silver was the fresh meat waiting to be bullied or potentially picking fights his scrawny body could never possibly win.

"You know what else bothers me, _Silvia_?" he sneered bemusedly, relishing every passing second Silver's expression hardened well past aggravation to potentially deadly. "Who wears the pants in the relationship? You're PSM-ing all the time but Gold gets so damn whinny…Wait! Don't tell me!"

_'One more word out of his mouth and I swear to all that is holy I will fucking beat hi-'_

Green rudely pointed accusingly at the redhead, he was fully aware it would be worth a pummeling or death sentence to gauge a different reaction rather than Silver taming his temper by having his nose flare in anger.

"You control the zipper!"

Silver snarled, baring his teeth, and the pregnant paused shared between them was short-lived before Silver pounced on the arrogant senior, lashing his pent-up rage whilst streaming a full set of colorful curses.

* * *

><p>Explaining to the middle-aged exhausted teacher that their fight was merely a friendly tussle, the two weaseled their way from receiving a detention: Silver should have felt indebted to his senior after convincing several of the staff the redhead was merely in a sensitive mood despite their prejudice against the student with the worst record in his year, the word of the extraordinaire Green Oak was to be trusted. To an extent. Gold was at fault for Green's overlooked delinquency, some of the staff were fully aware of this and advised "that such a bright student shouldn't mingle with such a terrible influence!" He would feel too stiff if he did not cause some sort of mayhem, which reminded him that Gold sent a text to meet at lunch.<p>

He laughed heartily at the proposed plan whispered in his ear—Gold completely disregarded his mood in the earlier morning—and gave vague answers to Gold's questions, including the scratch marks on face "that was so not there in the morning." Green could ruin the junior's mood by saying, "Your bitchy boyfriend did this to me, you prat" but Gold was preoccupied searching the crowded cafeteria for Silver, and besides he was willing to remain in the cafeteria for a short time. The noise was blaring.

Gold dragged his brief gloom overhead, his normally grinning face replaced with a pitiful frown, the playful glint in his eyes tired, upset, and angry. _'He's not here…how long is he going to avoid me…?' _Theamber-eyed junior inwardly lamented, quickly he shook his head to offer his partner a grin.

The two jumped on the table, cutting the conversation short, and began rather abruptly. Both headed to opposite ends of the table from each other and tapped their foot rhythmically, "_Ah… Girl look at that body. Ah… Girl look at that body. Ah… Girl look at that body. I work out._"

One of the lunch ladies barked at the two to seat themselves immediately. The pair disregarded the order by reuniting at the middle of the table; linking arm in arm they sauntered to one end of the table together, bobbing their head slightly.

"_When I walk in the spot this is what I see,"_ with their free hand they pressed a finger on their chest,_ "everybody stops and they staring at me."_ Gold and Green released their hold with one another, distanced themselves apart, and hooked their thumbs on the waistline of their pants to flash their protruding hip bones. "_I got a passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it, show it_." On cue they winked, their crooked smiles resisting the urge to burst into a fit of chuckles.

In the distance Green spotted Red and Yellow waiting beside the lunch line: Yellow was giggling whimsically, on the other hand Red shook his head disapprovingly.

After making complete fools out of themselves—momentarily stopping to adjust their pants correctly—they were still fully satisfied by the curious quirks and giggles, they bared no shame to laugh themselves right before they were threatened to be escorted elsewhere by the security guards. Green bade farewell to his quirky if not tediously overdramatic friend—how stable was the relationship between Gold and Silver anyway? It was an ordinary occurrence to have the pair arguing—striding out the double doors to trek towards the open track field, the lack of occupants near the bleachers would finally give him some peace of mind he rightfully deserved. The trailers on the outside of the perimeter held several different classes, giving him time to rest before the flock of students were rushing past each other to reach their next classes – his next two classes were in two out of the handful of trailers.

The next class passed insignificantly, his head buried in his arms to eventually fall fast asleep, or block out the gruff noise of the language teacher reciting the curriculum in a monotone fashion, in all honesty it was decided whatever came first. He found himself thankful he had fallen asleep, blissfully unconscious at the noisy mental chatter roaming about in the quiet students, then spared a glance at the clock to pack his belongings for the remainder of the five minutes. His graphics class was the trailer beside the one he was glaringly stuck in, relieved he settled in his next class by occupying the first row.

"Green, I heard you got some scratches on that pretty face of yours! You have to let me see it!" Blue hollered upon entering the class, immediately she set her tote bag on the seat after Green. She had no patience to sit directly next to him.

Blue forcibly titled Green's face using her index finger and thumb, the amused sound she made at the back of her throat found it all too entertaining as she inspected the severity of the damage.

"Control that little monster you think of as a brother. Generally I'm not that considerate to those planning to fuck my face up."

Blue pressed her manicured nails threateningly into the skin of the senior's chin. "I'll beat you black-and-blue if you so much as harm Silver," she promised tenderly. _'Or maybe I'll rope you down, get me a car, and run over your ball sack.'_

Green suppressed a shudder.

"Anyway, it's not that bad. I have some concealer in my bag to cover these up."

Green brushed her hand away, he swiveled in his chair to face the Mac computer. "Nah, I'm good."

She rolled her eyes. "Men," she said under her breath bitterly._ 'Why do guys always have to reject the use of make-up to protect their already butthurt pride? Ugh! I can never understand them!'_

The warning bell rung.

_'Fucking A…'_

Green turned his head at the voice; Blue beat him to greeting the nearly late addition to the class. The brunette got on her feet, straightened her skirt, and enthusiastically grabbed Red by the wrist to practically drag him to sit between Green and herself, oblivious in her chatter to the heavy dismayed expression lingering on the disappointed teen's face.

_'Why am I having a horrible streak of bad luck? A two marking period class with these two…'_

Green furrowed his brows, he took offense to that. Plenty would love to have two out of four classes with Green Oak.

"Thanks again for the homework! I was almost done for if I didn't—oh! Oh my god! That. Is. So. Cute! Where did you get that cupcake barrette?" Blue leaned forward, the tip of her fingers pressing on the hair clip with a deep admiration to the sheer adorableness that satisfied her taste. "I would so ask if I can have it…nah! You look too cute, Red!"

"It was Yellow…" he answered her softly, his eyes looking everywhere but Blue. It was his mistake, it lead to more unneeded conversation that earned them a scolding from the teacher impatiently staring at them to quiet down. They were instructed to enter their student account number, password, change their desktop background, then resume small talk _later._ The instructor was male, he sauntered over to the unoccupied desk to collect the scraps of transparencies knocked to the floor by his previous class-

Blue lapped her tongue over her lips, her eyes focused on the instructor. _'Mmm, stay like that, love! Give mama a nice view of that delectable ass.'_

"Yo, Blue, focus," Green said pointedly from his seat.

Without looking she emitted a low growl under her breath. "Quit being a booger," she snapped curtly, her focus fixed on the instructor, "I need my afternoon eye candy. And no, you're _not_ an eye candy so you don't count."

Red did not lift his gaze from the image results on google, neither did he show the slightest change in his stoic expression to prove otherwise he found the deflating arrogant smirk on the senior's face to be pleasing. _'Burn,' _he thought bemusedly.

The brunet exhaled through his nose. He couldn't retort to Red regardless of the gnawing compulsion to flip him the bird. Time for sweet temporary relief.

"Isn't this the greatest day of your life? Both of us stuck together again, best time of the day too! Right in the morning and right before you leave this…" he searched for the word thoughtfully, "Leave this hell hole, I suppose. I know you're one of those people rushing out of here like their life depends on it."

_'Ignore the booger. Ignore the booger.'_

He frowned at that. Blue was spreading her influence like a disease, he was sure Red would be radiating a thick aura of hatred by the end of the week if the brunette senior continued to pester him while Green was attempting to badger him in the mix. Both relaxed their shoulders, breathed a rolling sigh of relief as Blue excitedly spotted several of her other friends a few rows ahead of hers and bade farewell to "her stooges" for the mean time – only once could Green and Red settle on the agreement to insist that Blue should remain with her friends for the entire period. No, scratch that, for the last two marking periods so Green could absorb the feeling of a peaceful graduation.

"Since I know you won't answer me otherwise," Green said blandly, somewhat bored he had to maintain a one-winded conversation with the teen, "answer me some questions about yourself. Unless you want me to flirt with that cute friend you have sitting next to you in zoology."

Red whipped his head in Green's direction, his eyes narrowed on the brunet attempting to test his limited patience, but finally with a resigned sigh he reluctantly evened his voice yet ensured there was a lingering tone of exasperation. "What?" he snapped impatiently.

"Aw, that's disappointing. I thought you were the type of guy who didn't give in easily," he sneered approvingly spotting a fine black eyebrow twitch, "not that I mind all too much."

The ebony-haired teen folded his arms: the conversation was leading nowhere and that unnerved him to no end. His wishful desire was to be left alone, was it really too much to ask?_ 'Is there a point to this?'_ he thought sourly.

Huh, I'm actually realizing it isn't as loud as I would have figured. Everyone's distracted, Green thought briefly surveying the area. What an advantage! He could finally give Red his undivided attention whether he wanted it or not, he would not relent despite the murderous glint in the blood-red eyes.

"Let's go for trivial things! It's been bothering me whether you're a senior. You are, right? And seriously, do you even smile? You would give the dwarf Grumpy a run for his money," he mentioned jokingly, somewhat hopeful the uptight frown would twitch upwards if even for a fraction of a second.

It never happened, much to his dismay.

Red proceeded to swivel his chair forward, his focus on the monitor of the computer, his hand resting under his chin as he scrolled through the page. "Yes. I wouldn't know." _'Now hop off.'_

In his excitement he could finally have the possibly antisocial senior answering him—regardless of one-worded responses…an answer was an answer, it was suffice!—Green wrapped an arm around—as he felt under the thick red hoodie— the bony shoulder, pulling Red closer and grinning broadly of his mediocre triumph. The large scarlet eyes widened considerably under Green's hold, his mouth parted slightly unable to form a lashing protest that caught stuck in his throat, the swift movement gratefully covered his shocked expression with his fringes covering his face messily, his muscles too stiffened to promptly shove the cheering brunet off of him.

"Now this is what I call some progress!" Green chided enthusiastically, out of consideration he used his free hand to brush Red's black fringes away from his face and tucked the bangs behind the teen's ear. "Will this momentous occasion persuade you enough to give me your number?"

Instead of a stream of curses spluttering from the ebony-haired senior's mouth, he casually crinkled his nose in heavy disgust. Red used two fingers to pry the offending arm off his shoulder as if he were picking some rancid trash then rolled an arms' length away in his swivel chair. A pause registered between the pair, Red the first to mention something albeit mentally._ 'Actually, this could work out.'_

"Here," Red mumbled, resigning in defeat. Hastily he tore an unruly piece of paper from his notebook, proceeding quickly to scribble down on the shred a series of numbers. Crumbling the piece in a ball he flicked the paper over to Green, although small the brunet was able to secure it safely in his palms. That was the end of their conversation after offering the clock on their computer monitors a sideway glance.

A minute to the bell.

Red slipped on his headphones, comfortably placing the headgear on his ears then adjusted the volume on the song playing. He was a moderately a fair distance away from Green busily checking the contents of his backpack to fish out his phone, curiously Red craned his neck to inspect Green's strangeness for approaching him in the first place.

The last minute of the day usually entailed many students crowding near the door, their minds screaming at the clock to "ring already!" It was quite the headache when his desk was nearby the crowd, oddly he felt relaxed to listen to Red repeating the lyrics of some song on his iPod despite the rowdy noise of the students beside them:_ 'Fallin' faster, barely breathing, give me somethin' to believe in.'_

* * *

><p>Red pushed his headphones away from his ears, parting his focus from the pavement to his house a relatively short distance away.<p>

Finally home.

His day may have been the absolute worst but at least he was able to return to his soothingly calm household where his mother would be preparing him a light meal before she kissed him goodbye to depart for her part-time job. As he entered his house and passed through the living room, haphazardly tossing his messenger bag on the sofa, he trudged unhurriedly to the kitchen in a lighter mood despite the unnecessary stress he felt throughout the day. Pikachu was nibbling on several seeds and vegetables on its tiny saucer, in its possession was a single seed the animal dropped entirely to scramble energetically from its bucket, around its saucer—since his mother had such a heart for Pikachu she bought a bucket to situate on the empty kitchen seat to provide an elevation for the creature to eat at the table level like an equal—and skitter towards Red's open palm.

"How was school?" his mother asked sweetly, in her hands she was fumbling with her keys. She locked her eyes with the hair clips on her son's fringes but refrained from posing a question.

Pikachu crawled on the sleeve of his hoodie; it sniffed around midway then promptly continued its trek to rest soundly on its owner's shoulder, in turn Red raised a finger to scratch behind Pikachu's ears.

"It could have been better," he told her collectively, his tone assuring her his minor situation was nothing to fret about.

* * *

><p>"Gramps, sis, I'm home! Who's got some food ready? I'm starving!" he announced ceremoniously upon entering his house—Green really needed to assert the importance of keeping the door closed at all time. For all the occasions his grandfather was rushing around the house with books and loose documents nearly slipping from its manila folders Oak had a troubling time to ensure the door was locked—at first not a soul responded, frowning he hung his backpack on the coat stand, his footsteps echoing on the hollow floorboard.<p>

Then a distant female voice from upstairs greeted him, evidently preoccupied organizing or designing new clothes for Eevee upstairs to properly exit her room to greet her sibling, not that Green minded. He _did_ mind when his beloved Eevee would be skittering around the house in staggeringly bright neon pink ponchos or ruffled pink sweaters or another _polka-dotted ribbon_ for its tail. He also didn't mind because Daisy would not have the chance to pose any questions on the faint scratch marks on his face, leading to an awkward confrontation in an attempt to pry answers out of him. What would he say? He loved riling people's feathers while ignoring the consequences that include a murder-driven redhead more or less wanting the satisfaction of gouging his eyeballs from their sockets?

Anyway, Daisy needed to reread the certification for Eevee specifically addressing the sex of the creature: _male._ Not female.

Yet his sister insisted degrading Eevee further with cringing outfits. ("It's adorable!" she would always say.)

He prayed Daisy was merely grooming Eevee this time. Or drinking her tea, after all she would have a cup ready on her workspace next to the stack of papers she was working on for her thesis paper; she was well on her way to become a doctor! And with just enough time to prepare dinner for her family!

The brunet hissed at the sharp pang of pain forming on his leg, he was too delighted to see his fennec fox in one piece despite the animal clawing into his clothes and probably tearing his skin in the process. "Eves! You're okay!"

Daisy bellowed a "I heard that!" from upstairs.

"Stop procrastinating!" he retorted in good humor, briefly his verdant eyes scanned the empty first floor for any signs of his grandfather or the echoing footsteps the busy researcher produced in his tiring work schedule – no matter, Green would visit the ranch later to update the progress for his grandfather, he's been meaning to see the livestock somewhere today to keep himself informed of their behavioral patterns.

He carried Eevee in his arms to his bedroom, the little fox yipping and licking its owner's hand in its crave for attention and a treat, however his attention for the animal was ebbing away as he collapsed on his bed, exhaling loudly from briefly recapping his ordinary long day. "Remind me to clip your claws, Eevee. Jesus, they're like thorns."

Eevee yipped.

Green chuckled. "God, Eves, you wouldn't believe what I was suckered into," he informed Eevee even if the animal had not even the faintest idea of recognizing human speech. Drawing the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, including his phone in his back pocket, he grinned eagerly dialing the number into his cell phone – this marked a fantastic success! If it simply took one day to have Red finally yield and give Green his number he could only manage his greatest triumphs to come in the next few weeks! The senior would reluctantly admit he was becoming steadily unsure whether Red would ever soften—oh! The first dial tone!—yet he safely assumed he smoothed the wrinkle of their initial awkward confrontation, thus regaining an unwavering confidence-

"_Hello, this is not the person you are trying to call! You've reached the rejection hotline. Unfortunately the person who gave you this rejection hotline did not want you to have their real number. We know this sucks but don't be too devastated. So, why were you given a rejection hotline? Maybe you're not the person's type, note this could be: boring, dumb, annoying, arrogant, or just a general weirdo. Maybe you suffer from bad breath, body odor, or a nasty combination of the two. Maybe you just give off that creepy overbearing psycho stalker vibe. Maybe the idea of going out with you is just as appealing as playing leap frog with unicorns_-"

He ended the call, surprisingly not angered or struck with disbelief but rather laughed breezily after chucking his phone on the pillow. "Son of a bitch…" he trailed off with a snicker, his verdant eyes fixed on the stark white ceiling, and absentmindedly he stroked the small fox resting beside his arm.

There was no trace of animosity in his words.

Red was too much for his own good!

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I think with a push from Gold, Green would do anything for the lulz. _Anything._  
>(Closest animal species to eevee. Yep. My friend owns one, it makes me feel so jelly. :u)<br>Mfw when somebody told me about the rejection hotline :'D The message they say does not belong to me (kinda mentioned in the disclaimer) but it's totally lulzy.

OHMYGOD. I LOVE YOU ALL. LIKE WORDS CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE- I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone with this chapter;; Maybe it's just me but…ugh. I (rly) can't even describe… Like that pitifully short scene with Silver;; Ahu, I tried ;~; THERE SHALL BE MORE. Eventually. Or something.

The new professor for BW2 looks like the lovechild of N and Cilan. I'm so srs.

**Songs used**:  
>I'm sexy and I know it <em>by <em>LMFAO  
>What's left of me <em>by <em>Nick Lachey


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: HELLO WORLD. BAD NEWS: this summer I was looking forward to updating, but I have to attend summer school to recover some lost credits and attend SAT classes very soon. (Can you say FML? Aha;;) I'll try to update…I really will;; Thank you for your patience! I hope people are satisfied with this update; I have mixed-feelings but honestly couldn't do better at this moment. Please bear with me so I can make it up to all you beautiful readers. OTZ  
><strong>Extra note<strong>: Let me make the attempt to make a proper transition while dealing with a brain fart and trying to regain my thought process how this was going. Oh wait. That's right. I winged this. Fuuuuuuuccc-

oh my gOD THE AMOUNT OF ALERTS AND FAVORITES. I. I CAN'T. **_THANK YOU._**

**Disclaimer**: It's okay that I'll never own anything. These past several weeks have been all about Euro 2012 and I'm content (but did sob so hideously when Germany lost. BBYS ;~; ). There is so much homo I can't even-

* * *

><p>Red, munching slowly on the granola bar left on his bedside, stared blankly at his phone he had tossed on his red beanbag chair earlier. It was an ill feeling forming in the pit of his stomach, uneasy whether his phone would go off at any second to display the number of an unknown caller. For all patience he had given Blue, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt she would not be bribed to give <em>that headache <em>his real number. As long as his phone remained quiet he could retreat to his bed, breathe a sigh of relief, and suppress the urge to fake sick to stay home.

What did Green want from _him_? Red recognized he did not particularly have the best social skills in the world: he hardly smiled, talked too little, nor did he have many friends – not that he was complaining, it would be too much of an emotional baggage to listen to everyone, to remember every birthday as if it were an obligation. Knowing that, he ruled the possibility of Green using him to connect to someone else.

Green had Gold as a friend so he ruled the other possibility he was seeking a companion to have a conversation with. Besides, Red acknowledged, he had plenty of those since Green was the star gem of the school. The final possibility that made his blood boil was Green's less than charming sense of humor: harass the quietest guy, why not? It was perhaps some traditional sport initiation nonsense – Green was athletic, scouted by the clubs, friends with the meat-headed jocks after all.

Losing his appetite for the granola bar, he discarded the item in the waste basket. Red scooped Pikachu from the floor—the little creature was fiddling with a strand of yarn—and brought his friend to his bed, its little feet scurrying to take its position on the pillow.

It absently searched the room, stopped, then proceeded to prod Red's nose with its snout. "I'm okay," Red assured the little brindle mouse; he scratched behind its ear with the tip of his finger. "I'm okay…" he said a little more quietly.

What would it take to be left alone? Red gave a saddening smile to the little mouse drifting to the brink of unconsciousness. He knew Green would be persistent in his crude taunts, and really all he could do was either tolerate it or ignore it.

He finally fell asleep hours later. His phone did not buzz or ring throughout the night.

* * *

><p>It was less than an eventful Tuesday morning; at the very least he did not have to find a way to entertain himself for nearly an hour until his first class began. It was the same as usual to enter his class a little early to avoid the people he had to call "friends" from stopping him in the hallway for some time consuming chitchat. It was miracle he was able to swiftly dodge the hounding football players from badgering him to join the team again, in his escape he lamented at the loss of a dollar he fed to the vending machine that was taking its sweet time to uncoil and push the soft drink he waited barely a second for.<p>

After claiming his seat, Green rested his head on his arm and faced the window, watching sleepily as the small visible white dots piled on the window sill. Only a matter of time 'til the snow turns into mounds, Green thought plainly, the area was prone to the worst of winter's wrath. He was feeling rather under the weather to tolerate Gold's antics today, or anybody else for that matter, he would probably even find himself letting Red rest easy without having to succumb to vent his rage in his mind – the school had too many angry people, he definitely did not need another one so close. Groaning, the bell rang its five-minute warning to signal the students to hurry to their homeroom, or start pushing and shoving to arrive to their classes. He narrowed his eyes on the window, hearing mentally and verbally the whiny reluctance of the students filling in at once, usually adding to their obnoxiousness were the few that blasted their music loud enough for the whole class to hear.

Having no patience for the rowdy underclassmen sitting in the front row singing to the lyrics blaring from his headphones, Green straightened himself on his chair, his arms folded on his chest. "Yo, junior, turn it down or turn it the fuck off!" he spat venomously, drawing attention upon himself.

The junior was stared awkwardly by the students in the class; under the junior's breath he mumbled something inaudibly, finally fishing out his music player to lower the volume. _'Suck my dick, asshole._'

Green lowered his arms, highly tempted but restrained himself from flicking the student the bird; instead he shook his head in disbelief and tipped his chair back slightly to stare directly at the ceiling. He was completely unimpressed by the junior's meek retaliation, unimpressed he was not even getting so much of a fight over his authority.

Senior privileges, along with stellar grades and athletic stardom did have its quir—

His train of thought was cut short from the mid-heart attack of his chair being pushed forward into place; the force, he realized, was from Red's messenger bag trying to squeeze through the narrow passage Green created with the seat. He should have been angrier Red casually sat down nibbling on a croissant but for some unusual reason he felt a little calmer, as if expecting this from him regardless of their familiarity only spanning a day.

Green tossed his arm on the back of Red's chair, grinning at the visible sight of Red's eyebrow twitching despite his expression remaining completely stoic to his advances. "I deserve an apology," he said smoothly, summoning the enthusiasm he discarded in the earlier morning.

Without looking at him, Red bit off a chunk of the croissant, his other hand occupied sorting through the messages his mother sent of Pikachu's well-being, then after a few seconds he swallowed to respond, "No."

Not affronted by Red's unpleasant socializing skills, he pursued the chance to converse. "I deserve an apology for yesterday though! That fake number was uncalled for."

_'The fact that you fell for it is perfect in itself,'_ Red thought to himself, tearing another chunk of his breakfast.

A student walked in the class with a large plant to decorate the room, briefly explaining her duty to do so by the order of the main office with a straight face. The teacher's eyebrows furrowed, making a shooing gesture with her hand she said, "Get that hideous thing out of here!"

Red turned his head to stare at the brunet senior, blinking slowly, his eyes slightly narrowed. _'You heard her. Get out.'_ It was brief, fleeting moment that startled Green: their eyes were locked now, an indistinguishable flicker in the others' intense hues – it was strange, abnormal, and resentful for obvious reasons considering his passive inward comment just now, but Green would not mind having this moment stretch longer. The retort was brief, easily could have made Red satisfied enough to return his gaze on the blank chalkboard. Was Red seizing the opportunity to analyze him now that he gave Green some direct attention? Give him a little credit despite fully knowing he did not deserve it considering how evidently displeased Red's mood was during his first class and last together?

The moment was short-lived as Red broke eye contact first, and after dusting his hands together he made an attempt to reach for his headphones to block the sound of Green purposely trying to infuriate him in the early morning. It was a casual, fluid movement to have the large buds press on his ears to then continuously pay no heed to the rush of students entering the classroom, he himself clearly waiting for Yellow's arrival. It would be all set but he stiffened when he felt a vice grip around his lanky wrist before his fingertips could even brush the exterior of his headphones.

Red was no longer focused on Green by the time he sought salvation from his iPod, so craning his neck he eyed the hand around his wrist with a hardening glare.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have very kissable lips?" Green confessed sincerely in an honest observation, no suggestive tone lacing his words. He impulsively leaned forward to have a better look, unsure what compelled him to invade Red's personal space bubble.

His grip remained firm, alarming Red in a state of panic to clench his fingers on the hem of his hoodie's sleeve; he proceeded to make desperate tugging motions to pry himself away from Green._ 'Stop touching me stop touching me stop touching me-'_

Red's leg shot out, the tip of his converse connecting with the base of the flimsy plastic chair to tip it over with all his might, the loud banging noise resonating loudly in the room to turn all heads in their direction. Green groaned from the floor, rubbing the back of his head to alleviate the sting painfully pulsating ,hissing he opened one eye to peek whether Red would be apologizing or even bear a trace of guilt on his normally neutral expression.

Green was too absorbed in his own doing to pay attention to the rapid pleas filtering in the teen's head, too absorbed to have ever felt Red squirming, no, _thrashing_ to escape. He honestly did not bite, he had no disease, no sickness, but Red tried to get away as if his life depended on it.

One green orb witnessed Red clutching his wrist protectively close his chest, his headphones that once neatly rested on his neck was falling more to one side, his chest was rising and falling unevenly, and Red no longer paid attention to Green in particular but rather to those whispering amongst themselves. Mentally they were all judging the odd senior, a mere nobody, for pushing _Green off the chair _without reason. Or at least they assumed without reason because Red appeared at loss how to deal with all their scrutinizing gazes, the words he wanted to convey formed a lump in his throat – visibly he even cleared his throat, Green noticed.

He could hear the class chattering inwardly, wondering whether he was in one piece or wondering what caused their episode. A few settled back onto their seats to mind their own business, several female juniors neared his table asking him, "Are you okay, Green?"

_'Sweetness! Made it!'_ A voice cheered from the door. The approaching footsteps Green could distinguish immediately stopped, was replaced with a sloppy scramble, then a hand was extended to help Green up. "Green, what happened?" Gold asked a little too loudly, or at least too thunderous for the brunet's liking. Amber eyes leveled with a set of scarlet eyes, an accusatory glint flickering. "What did _you_ do?" he asked Red, heaving Green back onto his feet in the process.

Red shook his head, made a grab for his messenger bag, then rudely pushed through the gathering crowd forming in the back to make a run for the door in a hasty sprint. Yellow was about to form the words of an apology for arriving late to class but she moved aside quick enough for the blur of black and red that rushed past her, her eyebrows knitting together before realization dawned on her face her friend was suddenly leaving the class. "Red! _Red!_" she attempted to call out to him, her small hands cupping around her mouth. "Come back! Red, what's wrong!"

"What's with him?"

"He's so rude!"

Green not only felt another headache forming from entering the classroom, he also felt worse from the fall to his noggin. Hell, if he knew his day would end up like this he would have convinced his grandfather to help with the livestock or even offer his assistance to Daisy's thesis paper just to stay home. The teacher's voice was nearly droned out, however he did catch something along the lines of "report him if he does not come back."

It may have taken some time to convince his homeroom teacher otherwise, planting all the blame on himself rather than Red for his struggle; he was sentenced to afterschool detention for a class disturbance. Shrugging he returned to his seat, giving his best attempt to avoid looking directly at Yellow sitting in her chair dejectedly, absently fiddling with a star hair clip in her possession, a gnawing sense of fault overwhelming him every time he heard Yellow's downcast exhale throughout class.

Never has he ever been so excited to be distracted in zoology than he was now, although he had to reassure Gold he was perfectly fine, he could not suppress the urge to steal a glance at the closed door in between the lesson's pauses. Green essentially had a whimsical sense of humor: he liked to joke, liked to tease, liked to exaggerate, but never humiliate. His teasing would only stretch into a private conversation; it would never be something he would announce to the whole class to overhear. Five minutes before the bell rang he steadied his gaze on the door, scratched his head with uncertainty etched on his face, and silently wished he would have continued the progression of his earlier mood in the morning when he was initially uninterested of his surroundings.

His first class could have been a lot more uplifting if he did. He would have never come across the scenario where he would be conflicted whether to leave Red alone, throw away his pride to apologize, or pretend as if nothing happened. Justifying his desire to have a silly amount of money felt plenty more relieving than agonizingly fretting with guilt.

* * *

><p>The snow was certainly turning into mounds. Unlike the early morning, the snowfall was merely less than a centimeter, as Green stepped outside he could hear the loud crunching noise of his nikes into the less than desirable snow, the temperature steadily lowering as indicated on his phone. He would have been a lot more frustrated with the cold wetness drenching through the fabric of his pants, a scarf would have been nice too, especially a pair of gloves because—after standing outside motionless besides quickly buying a warm cup of sweetened coffee—he was positive his fingers were on their way to becoming numb or frostbitten.<p>

The coffee was not his but it did keep at least one hand warm, as reluctant as he was to this point he waited patiently to see Red outside, perhaps talk to him—for his agenda, Green reminded himself—then call it a day until his final class. It may have taken several minutes when he could have easily spent his time in a nice, albeit loud, toasty cafeteria. Sure enough Red was spotted walking hastily towards the street, headphones on his ears, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked left and right before crossing.

Green would wonder later whether he was noticed, ignored, or maybe a combination of the both – considering Red he would not be surprised if it did end up being both. Trekking forward from his hiding space Green followed close behind, ever grateful Red would not hear the crunching of his footsteps. The brunet wished he could shoo those meddling citizens casually passing him while he followed Red's trail, he wanted only one sole individual on the streets so he could pry into Red's mind.

…Although his gut told him to mind his own business, he ignored his nagging conscience to quicken his pace.

From what Green could overhear he would admit they were not at all interesting:

_'My next allowance could be divided between new food treats for Pikachu, some for mom, a portion for snacks…'_ His inner voice droned into a lackluster tone. _'Invest in pepper spray…'_

Green blinked. _Well now._

_'Only a day and half and he single-handedly became the most annoying person I ever had the __misfortune of speaking with. Who knew the word "agitating" can manifest itself into human form, congrats Green.'_

Green gave himself some self-credit he hasn't marched forward to pour a steaming cup of coffee on the normally quiet senior.

In his own little raging fit he failed to notice Red shooting a car's rear view window a glance, it was only until he could listen to the extended groaning had he realized his presence was noticed by Red. The ebony-haired teen hastened his speed through the parking lot to enter the supermarket a block away from the school, regardless of the convoluted turns through the cars, Green could not easily lose the other – Red's stream of inward cursing gave his position away.

_'What does he want now? First a nuisance, now a stalker?'_

"Keep walking ahead of me and you'll have yourself a stalker!" Green announced loudly when entering the supermarket, disregarding the curious eyebrow quirks he was receiving. It was difficult to maneuver through the aisles with a steaming cup spilling over its contents, though he was laughing earnestly to himself how blatantly Red tried to evade him—oh, he swerved the corner again!

_'Ignore him, Red, he might go away…'_

"I will point and yell if I have to! Everybody knows who _exactly _I'm talking to!"

At first he thought the threat would never affect the other teen. Red did stop; he did not chance looking back but sighed as he asked the cashier to bag two dollars' worth of potato wedges. Fully aware his headphones might be insistently pushed down his neck, Red set his headphones comfortably on his collarbone. There was a brief flicker from the potato wedges to Green out of the corner of his eye, subtly warning him to keep his hands to himself.

Green snickered playfully, the glint meeting his eyes. Red rolled his eyes, quietly thanking the cashier for the food, not really waiting or paying attention if Green became side-tracked. If anything that would be a blessing as it would be easier to get away from him. The squeaky footsteps of his wet converse was accompanied by the sound of heavier, nearly jogging it seemed, footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. Before Green would badger him on the return trip to the school, Red slipped his free hand in his pocket, manually fiddling with the screen to select any song on his playlist, when he was done he searched the parking in a small speckle of hope he might be able to hide and ditch Green.

Not like he would be able to execute any desirable plans since he felt his shoulder being gently nudged, fully aware he had to give the brunet the attention he wanted. Red closed his eyes for a few seconds, exhaled exasperatingly through his nose, and reopened his eyes to offer Green a stony, pointed stare.

"Shouldn't you share?" he stated first, his shit-eating grin never faltering.

_'Shouldn't you go away?'_ Red challenged, all Green received was silence though.

Chuckling, Green offered the cup good-naturedly. "Here, I got this for you. For, uh…" he trailed off, looking guilty as he scanned the cars in the parking lot distractingly. "What happened…earlier…"

Red's eyebrows hitched, mostly due to his disinterest. Regardless he took the offered cup with his free hand, giving it a curious shake to see if there was anything inside or if Green was being a dick enough to hand him an empty cup. "What happened today?" Red asked patiently.

Then Red began walking again, much to Green's relief because of the stressed awkwardness between them, and it was safe to say they could both act like nothing ever happened. It was a silent troll through the parking lot, neither pursuing the enthusiasm for a conversation—not that he would expect Red to engage any idle chatter to begin with—both minds clear of ill and snarky thoughts – _for once_ it was a _nice_ change Green would not have to rely on his pills to alleviate his headaches. With others they were never quiet, mentally or verbally, never gave him the time of the day to breathe, to collect himself into a state of peace.

It was unnerving with Red however, he never did quite meet someone who could dislike him, nor did he ever meet anyone who could remain perpetually quiet this long. He shook his head as they walked along—Red clearly paid him no regard—reminding himself again he was definitely not here for friendship, he was here bothering some senior he never acknowledged until now for one reason alone: it was his senior year, he had nothing to be scared about the end result of this trifling little bet. His future was secured, he already received several acceptance letters in the mail, and it was not like he would ever see Red again in his life, so in the end he was going to make every effort count until the end of spring.

"I know you don't care," Green began, his focus on the small trail of snow on his shoelaces, one hand distractingly fiddling with his phone tucked in his pocket. "but this might be the only moment where we can act like…" he trailed off, searching the word before continuing. "…Like civilized people, I guess."

Never graced with a response, not like he would expect it from someone that seldom talked, the pair crossed the street, trudging sluggishly through the wet slush of snow under their feet. Although he was not looking directly at Green but rather gazing blankly at the long cord of his headphones, he was listening to every word, his pursed lips did prove he was listening reluctantly however: if he were to slip his headphones on he knew he would never be able to tune Green out, the buds would be repeatedly tugged down until Green said everything that was on his mind.

Green grabbed Red's shoulder, his fingers pressing through the thick fabric of the red hoodie, disregarding how rigid Red became in an instant. It was a quick transition from an impassive expression to appearing genuinely startled: his eyes were wide open rather than half-lidded when he was being inexpressive, his deep frown softening, and his thin eyebrows hiking upwards. Green made no comment to the teen's reaction, instead he inched closer. "I meant what I said earlier. Usually I'm not that honest with people."

The brunet's phone promptly buzzed in pocket.

"Well shit. I forgot about Gold!" he explained vaguely, his face contorting in exasperation as he steadily began recollecting his earlier commitments to eat lunch with the junior. He took off rather quickly but stumbled occasionally from the snow sinking in his every step. There was no room to wait for Red's reaction—or to expect a reaction to be gauged if there was one—but he did catch the sound of something tossed into a waste bin, the spluttering noise of liquid following after the loud clang. And, although nearly blending in with the ambient noises of honking cars and chattering students, the faint sound of music echoing from the large buds of Red's headphones lingered in the air before it died out when Green arrived closer to the school.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I am the queen of progression aha. /brick'd

_(Considering my inexcusable absence, is anyone still interested in this story? 6_9 I would hate to have anyone disappointed ;A;)_

_BTW_. Has anyone ever played the Pokémon Ranger game? Anyone remembers the Go-Rock Quads? HOMIKA IS TOTALLY THEIR LONG-LOST SIBLING.

**chapter revised 12/17/14 for grammatical errors**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Although summer school is long over, I find myself constantly distracted by one thing or another. It's a bad habit that I can't get over;; thank you for your patience. I wish I can promise a speedy update for next time, but I really can't. I suck at meeting personal deadlines. OTZ  
><strong>Extra note<strong>: I FINALLY HAD SOME DECENCY TO MAKE SOMETHING MODERATELY LONG IN LENGTH. 'ALLELUJAH. So, I do hope you enjoy? For once I have alright feeling towards an update, which is really rare that I even approve of my own chapters .-.  
><strong>Special thanks<strong>: to _Mystia Katsuragi_. I don't know why but her kind soul decided to beta this sdfghjk. Omg just bless you c': YOU ARE AMAZINGG.  
><strong>A fun recommendation<strong>: Somewhere near the end I found it pretty exciting to type and listen to the recent/updated remix by GlitchxCity called "Kanto Gym Leader Remix VII." Just sayin' :u  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I continue to own _nothing_. Not even the chain I mentioned for coffee and Hershey, which is mentioned only once anyway.

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><p>Red went straight home after the warning bell hollered in the distance. His toes were numb from the melted snow delving deep into the material of his converse and into his socks, his fingers were turning an abnormal shade of a bright red-pink color, and he was sure if he tried to use his phone as a mirror, he would be certain the tip of his nose was delving into a hue of pink. The snow gradually accumulated since the morning, and truthfully the warmth of his red hoodie would not provide him any comfort by the time he reached his home.<p>

However, he was fond of the cold temperature. It allowed him time to think, unlike the summer where he was constantly fanning himself from the heat wave or the spring when pesky bugs were around. People were barely compelled to brave the cold weather outside, leaving the town seemingly uninhabited – autumn was moderately bearable, besides the ongoing problem of far too many people outside.

When Red arrived home, promptly kicking the tip of his shoes on the white-shrouded "Welcome!" carpet, he locked the door behind him and poked his head inside to inspect whether his mother was still home. Met with silence, Red casually tossed his messenger bag haphazardly on the floor and proceeded to walk upstairs, where faintly he could hear a barely audible and frantic scratching noise against his bedroom door.

"I'm home, Pikachu," he announced as he gripped the door knob, alerting the little mouse to scoot away so he could open the door without harming the small creature. Quickly crouching to offer his palm for his friend, he scooped Pikachu off the floor and planted the mouse on his shoulder, momentarily allowing Pikachu to get comfortable—which meant carefully trekking its way into the hood of his hoodie, its snout poking out in the air to breathe through the thick material—before he stood back on his feet. He shuffled around the room to pick up the scattered toys Pikachu played with while he was at school, then he seated himself next to his laptop. He printed out his mother's ticket for her flight, browsed through several websites, and cluttered his head with ongoing distractions, yet he found his attention gradually ebbing away.

Knowing he could not avoid his plaguing thoughts, he closed his laptop, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he exhaled deeply through his nose. Red had little energy to do much of anything on a daily basis, but Green was draining him of everything he initially had in his system. In only a span of two days he has been feeling more emotions than he has ever had in a single year: exasperation, exhaustion, humiliation, and mild confusion. Red drummed his fingers on the arm rest, shaking his head gently.

Green was smug, reckless, foolish—there would never be enough brain bleach to destroy the mental image of that terrible performance he had to witness in the cafeteria, his appetite completely lost having to spot Gold and Green strutting on the tables for the shits and giggles—and an eyesore. Red was at a loss as to what more he could do, given how he simply could not just make a sign and write in large letters: "Please tell this inconsiderate jackass to stop harassing me."

Opening his eyes, he removed his shoes belatedly, then he hoisted his weight on the seat to sit cross-legged on his revolving chair, removing Pikachu from his hood in order to lean back comfortably.

"Mom fed you?" he asked quietly, a warm smile gracing his lips, his eyes drawing half-lidded from the nagging tiredness he has been feeling since the morning. His friend never responded but wiped its snout with its small stubby hands, its beady black eyes steadily observing Red.

He nodded, satisfied, and began speaking again. It was paced, always at the volume of a whisper—any loud noises could easily startle Pikachu—and leveled. "Something happened today. And it…" he gulped down the bulge forming in his throat, "… I wonder how many times I might have to come home and reassure mom. I might…be overthinking this or maybe a bit…paranoid. But today has made me," he paused, the small smile he wore tipping downward in a deepening frown, "…really…consider I'll have more this days like this."

Red brought Pikachu close to this face, quirking his head slightly to examine the small creature. "No matter what happens, I'll…I'll tell her the same thing…" His eyes clenched shut; he could feel the tiny hands of his best friend gently pawing at his nose, the ticklish whiskers brushing against his cheeks. And he could remember the burning sensation where his wrist was gripped, the rushing palpitations of his heart, the dread sending terrible chills down his spine. The eyes of onlookers accusing him, most regarding him with an uneasy distrust, the words that were going to form but failed to be vocalized upon looking deep into Gold's cautious amber eyes.

He highly doubted all days will end up Green being as "kind" as he was in the end of the day, and he wished he knew what he could anticipate for the days to come. For the worst of his days, for the merciful days, and for the days where he could seek comfort when he might finally be left alone. His mother—with visible bags under her eyes that were never prominent in family pictures during his early and preadolescence years, her long black flowing hair now always messily tied in a tight bun, loose strands falling on her face—was such a fragile woman, he refused to worry her. Reopening his eyes again he curled his fingers close to give Pikachu a careful scratch on its plump belly.

"…I'll keep telling her…" the words trailed off, leaving the pair to embrace the silent atmosphere.

Two hours later his mother returned with the groceries, mildly surprised to see Red walking down the staircase. Giving her a welcoming nod, he searched through the bags for treats. Red helped dust off the clumps of snow in her moist hair, placed most of the items she could barely reach in the pantry, and patiently waited for her to prepare a meal. Hearing her hum softly put him at ease: she was in a good mood, and he was in better spirits because his mother had bought him four chocolate bars. He perked a very faint grin—although even then he usually appeared to be frowning regardless—and tore away some of the colorful foil, nibbling on an end.

"Don't eat them all at once, Red," she advised jokingly. "I'll be unpacking several more of the winter clothes. Remember to wear a scarf, young man; don't make me have to check before you leave."

He said nothing but nudged Pikachu, who had trailed down his arm to sniff around the table for any food, away from the small bowl containing the chocolate bars.

His mother opened the cabinets, gathering two plates and a small serving bowl, evenly distributing the food. She fished an apple and some leafy greens from the refrigerator for Pikachu's meal.

"How was school?"

He lowered his gaze. "Fine," he responded, biting off a chunk of the candy bar.

His mother nodded and reached for the knife, proceeding to chop the apple into thin, even slices. She stopped humming.

* * *

><p>The snow did worsen overnight, much to his relief and dismay, and the school called to inform him he would have a delayed opening. Despite the alert he wanted to skip his first class, so he casually lied to his mother, who was hardly awake enough in her bed to fully acknowledge his comment, and went outside to begin shoveling the snow gathering around his house. After he returned the shovel to the shed in the backyard, he made his way inside the house to his room and reached for his phone, calling his employer to say that he would be willing to work today—he never really needed the job, money was sent once a week that covered more than enough of all the expenses, including money just to burn. But it was a decent distraction, and it also added to the emergency funds in case of anything—after he was told he could arrive, he scampered into his walk-in closet for his clothes.<p>

When Red was well and ready, he bid farewell to his mother and Pikachu, set his headphones on his ears, adjusted the messenger bag around his shoulder, and locked the door behind him as he reached the snowy outside. He was feeling a tad bit tired, but at least his own job specialized in different brews of coffee.

* * *

><p>"Green, I know you can hear me!" Daisy bellowed from the other side of his bedroom door, patiently she waited a few seconds before knocking on the door again. "Grandpa wants you to buy more rock salt!"<p>

With an exaggerated groan he kicked off the sheet, briefly apologizing to Eevee for tossing him off his bed in his childish rage and approached the door in slow, unhurried steps. He fastened the string of his boxers before turning the knob of the door, yawning rather rudely as he stared at his sister in his drowsy stupor.

She made a face, scrunching her nose, her lips pursed. "Would it kill you to wear a shirt when you sleep?"

"Daisy," he said patiently, blinking at her slowly, "this is my room, I can do whatever I damn well please." Tiredly he rested his head on the door sill, absently using his free hand to scratch his unruly bed head. "And it's eight in the morning. If you think I care about anything at this hour then you really need to consider how much you know about your wonderful brother."

"Just get the salt," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Why don't we just shovel the snow? Or, how about this fantastic idea?" he asked with a feigned amount of amusement, flashing a forced, bright smile. When she hiked an eyebrow his expression instantly fell as he explained to her rather flatly, "You get it."

He made an attempt to shut the door but growled under his breath when it refused to close with his sister's foot wedged between the gap. Heaving a resigned sigh he trotted toward his closet to get his clothes. "Fine, fine. But you better put down an extra ten 'cause if I have to go out when it's this cold, I want a coffee from Starbucks!"

* * *

><p>Silver liked Red.<p>

He was better company than half the population he had to tolerate in school, including the biggest pest of his existence, the loudest _friend_ he never really desired or would have ever approached, tolerating _his _compulsion to be attached: that insistent, nerve-grating, headache-inducing _Gold._

So working the same shifts was calming throughout the morning rush, when the crowd died down and dispersed the pair would claim a table near the window, no words spoken between sips of their morning brews. When there was small talk it would—even surprisingly enough for him—be Silver that would lead the conversations that usually involved a string of foul words, rants, or the ordinary talk of entertainment from the web or television. Red hardly spoke much but Silver rather enjoyed the fact that, regardless of the discussion, Red was always an attentive listener: never droning bits or pieces, often giving a few nods, or even adding a short input of his own.

Red was mildly surprised Silver was willing to work on a delayed opening but he made no comment, instead he quickly stuffed his belongings in his locker—even to this day he could never suppress the feeling of emptiness when he had to store away his precious iPod and headphones—slipped on his apron, and fastened his visor. The two workers hurriedly worked behind the sidelines making the coffee—their employer took pity on them, well aware it was complicated for them to smile and they were better off making a brew than trying to greet customers—rushing past each other often as the little cafe was invaded within minutes.

After an hour the crowd was more than manageable, slowly but surely it was empty for a good amount of time, allowing the cashier to clean the tables and for Red to take a quick bathroom break. Silver snatched a newspaper from the rack, pulled out a stool, skimming through the pages to entertain himself for the meantime. He barely leafed through two pages before he felt a cool breeze enter, inwardly groaning at the customer taking his or her sweet time to close the door. His gray eyes averted from the newspaper to the cashier busily cleaning a spill on a table, so with a resigned sigh Silver dismounted the stool and approached the counter.

"Welcome to Star-oh god, why did it have to be _you_," Silver hissed, his eyes narrowing._ 'Of course this dickwad somehow manages to ruin my goddamn morning. Why would I have thought otherwise?'_

Green dragged a bulky bag of salt through the front door; he paused before looking forward to regain his breath, the voice welcoming him sounded too familiar to be true. Planting the bag to the nearest table Green directed his attention to the cashier, a devious smirk creeping on his face. "Well, well, if it isn't Silvia. How's it hanging?"

"My name isn't _Silvia_. Read the name tag, dipshit." He emphasized briefly by pointing at the tag on his apron, but when he heard Green chuckle he lowered his hand._ 'Do the world a favor and go away, you egotistical fuck.'_

Green's feigned a look of hurt. "You're wounding me, Silvia. But _you_ should do the world a favor and watch that tone of yours." After ignoring the mental remark—a simple, uncreative _'Eat shit!'_—he continued, regaining his cheeky grin. "And do the world a better favor and get me a grande caramel macchiato, so chop chop."

"That's it," Silver announced curtly, "I am so fucking done." Given no explanations but a never ending mental rant, Silver turned his back on the cash register, stomping heatedly into the back room, ensuring the loud slam of the closing door was well heard.

Green frowned, wondering if anyone was going to take his order. He could badger the worker cleaning the tables but she disappeared into the hall before he could sum up the words, presumably to the bathroom. But he barely gave it much of a thought to wait, so he took every opportunity to sit down, moaning moodily of the cold moistness of his socks from the overbearing snow outside. The brunet lowered his focus to the polished floor, freezing almost immediately at the sight of a pair of red converses taking unhurried, even steps.

Red either ignored his presence or was genuinely not aware of him; the raven-haired teen was busy wiping his hands with a paper towel – Red kept his focus on his hands, giving Green an ample view of his long, black eyelashes with faint specks of red hues present. Red made a sharp turn to return to his station behind the counter, looking around a little as if searching for someone, and his quiet mental comment of _'Where's Silver?'_ confirmed Green's assumption that he was looking for his temperamental coworker. Although in his search he visibly stiffened, he craned his neck just a tad to look over his shoulder.

_'How did he find me here_ _too?' _Red thought, a little unnerved too, almost distressed he was running out of places to hide from Green.

Green, however, rolled his eyes. "I'm not stalking you, if it makes you feel better," he said in exasperation, frowning at how relieved Red appeared from the statement. "I had to pick up some salt. With a couple of bucks to spare I thought of heading to the closest place that was selling some coffee. Now here I am, still waiting for my caramel macchiato that Silver was too much of a prissy little princess to make."

Red turned on his heel, stopping at the cash register as he nodded with disinterest, forcing his voice out to obey standard procedures to ask, "Anything else with that?"

Despite himself, Green regained the enthusiasm to stand up from his chair to seize the opportunity to walk toward the counter and lean forward, offering a shit-eating smile. "Made with extra _love._"

_'Made with extra would-you-piss-off-already, prick,' _he thought wryly. "Extra whipped cream then?"

It really is hard to dislike Red, Green mused. "Yeah. Lots and lots. I _love _that_ white, _creamy_ good_ _stuff_."

Red couldn't suppress making a face of pure disgust before turning around quickly to make the order. The faster it was made, the faster Green would leave.

Having Red busily occupied making the order, not even commenting verbally nor mentally, he ignored the girlish thoughts of the cashier that returned from her duties. Green stepped aside a little to allow other customers to order, he drummed his fingers on the counter, entranced by Red's diligence: the little to no facial expressions when moving around from one position to the other, the briefest moments he went to reach something with his long, thin fingers, the occasional halts to push aside his overgrown black fringes to a side when, in only a matter of seconds, the hair would fall back into place regardless of his efforts.

And it was at that moment the cashier went to assist Red—she was inwardly groaning where Silver strayed off to, and Green himself nearly chuckled at that—though he barely gave her much of a response to accept her help, or even paid her any form of eye contact. The second she placed her hand on his shoulder, having no other intention but to reach for a packet of peppermint tea, she nearly stumbled at how quickly Red flinched away. They were caught in a stressing eye lock, but she shook her head, disregarding her coworker's antics, and ripped the packet open, plopping the bag in a cup of warm water.

After handing the bills to Red, shortly followed by an appreciative nod, Green asked innocently without giving it much of a thought, "So what's with you? The whole 'I will freak out if someone lays a finger on me,' 'cause I know some people don't like to be hugged but damn, Red, you take the cake." After finishing, he took a sip of his coffee, not liking the way Red was sending him a deathly glower. Then again, he was going to take advantage of the fact that Red couldn't, as much as he would have liked to, ignore him: his job would never allow it, and he was without his precious headphones to mute Green from the picture.

"Have a _good _day, _sir,_" he seethed venomously._ 'And keep your curiosity out of places where it doesn't belong. Or, matter of fact, where it's not _wanted_ or _needed_.'_

"You know," Green said between sips, his eyebrows knitting together, a displeased frown replacing his carefree mood, "the customer service here needs improvement, but that's beside the point. There are people in this world that _do_ get concerned."

Red said nothing, merely keeping his frown, his patience slowly withering.

Groaning, Green took another sip. "Look, I'm not here to fight with you. Honestly, I just wanted some coffee 'cause it's cold as piss outside and I'm dead tired. My sister didn't even try to take my place to get some salt instead. Don't worry, I'm gonna leave anyway since she sent me a text before I got here that Eevee is ripping up my pillows as we speak."

Red rolled his eyes, but he stopped himself from crossing his arms to merely think, _'What's an eevee?'_

Green gave himself a thoughtful pause, remembering faintly how Red was overly attached to his pet mouse when he confronted Ruby, and he realized himself he hardly made any progress getting Red to think of him other than being an annoying leech. Perhaps, Green considered carefully, Red enjoyed being around animals just as much as the rest of his family, or at least to some extent, considering the zoology class was an elective for those interested – or available for those that needed the credits. Out of the corner of his eye he could see new customers kicking the snow off their feet, idly chatting over what their order will be, causing Green to search through the pocket of his sweater, pull out his phone, and swipe the screen for several pictures of Eevee.

Red, however, was going to turn on his heel to return to his station after being forced to entertain Green even for a few minutes. He was appreciative that Green would not even make an attempt to grab his arm over the counter to catch his attention this time, but he did exclaim unnecessarily loud enough to startle him from leaving with a "Hold up!"

Green offered his phone with such a genuine smile, neither malicious nor devious, that Red eventually sighed through his nose and took the device. He was instructed to scroll as much as time allowed him to. Maybe, Green hoped, maybe he could worm his way through Red's tough exterior, and _maybe_ talking with another pet owner could convince him otherwise he was not _that _bad of a person.

"Meet Eevee, my fennec fox. Eves is a demonic little thing sometimes, don't get me wrong, but I wouldn't trade him for the world. My gramps gave it to me, and since he dabbles around the area to research all different kinds of animals, he happened to give me Eevee as a birthday present, like…seven years ago? Maybe eight?" he laughed, recalling how adorable Eevee was: a timid little thing back then, always scared of loud noises at first and found comfort hiding in the smallest places imaginable.

And despite having his doubts, it worked: Red was fully entranced, a corner of his lip twitching upward, giving every picture a fraction of a second to pause, really look at it, before flicking his finger to the next picture. "Sometimes my sis takes a break from her own research papers to pick me up from school, and when she does she usually invites Eevee for a ride. So…uhm…if you'd like…" The brunet was never one to be choked for words. When he asked Gold a year ago it was a short, straight-to-the-point invite, yet now he found himself in a mind-boggling predicament to ask _Red _of all people.

Red returned the phone when he was done with the album, his tense expression lessened, and he was appearing moderately calmer than before. _'He's adorable,'_ Red thought but never said. Green perked up, excited that, yes, _finally he's made some progress. _"Would you like to meet Eevee sometime? He usually gets nervous around new people." Realizing his wording, he spluttered, "E-Eves doesn't bite though!"

Red covered his mouth with one hand, his shoulders trembling, his eyes scrunching close. Did he accomplish the unfathomable to make _Red_ laugh?

Green blinked, unsure how to act. "Wow, now _that's_ adorable." He quickly amended his comment before he could make Red go stiff—god knows he felt like he was walking on eggshells, unsure whether the slightest remark or compliment could set Red off—by asking quickly, "Is that a yes?"

Red regained his composure, but he kept his mouth covered, nodding modestly enough.

"Sweet. So, uh, do you have any pets?" Because Red absolutely had no idea Green tried to pry some answers out of people. Nope, not at all.

Red's hand fell back to his side, answering Green's question with a nod. "I have-"

"Red! Get Silver and get these orders going already!" his coworker snapped.

Green mumbled an apology for taking his time that Red passively disregarded, and before he knew it Red returned to his station, although Green was unsure whether or not the whispered "bye" was said mentally or verbally. He knew he'd overstayed his welcome, so hauling the bag of rock salt over his shoulder and throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash can, he left the cafe.

* * *

><p>The next three days went relatively better than the first two. Green kept himself under control, and on Friday morning he offered Red a cookies n' cream Hershey bar—which was, at first, going to be declined, but eventually Red yielded and accepted with much reluctance—and it was even better progress on a ordinary cloudy Friday when Red switched from the oversized headphones that covered his ears entirely to his black beats ear buds. Green left the conversations shared between them to a minimum; Red's thoughts were progressively becoming less hostile and less exhausted.<p>

Red was starting to feel school was now a little bit more manageable. He may have wanted to stay home all day, sure, or remain on his bed, curled up against Pikachu, eating his favorite snacks, but at least his guilt vanished when he had to lie to his mother when she asked the same question as she did every other day – she was humming more too, so Red could say he was pleased. Did he open up entirely to Green, this stranger? Absolutely not.

If Green wanted in, possessing an odd, unexplained desire to befriend him, then that's fine, as long as he behaved and kept quiet most of the time. When lunch time came around, Red seated himself at a desolate table in the farthest corner of the cafeteria—he never minded sitting alone, as he did that often at breakfast, unless Blue was begging him to hand over his homework. He could have sat with Ruby or Sapphire, or even the kind freshman trio since Yellow had to leave early, but in the end he chose not to—munching slowly into his sandwich. He stared at his tray with a blank look, thoroughly contemplating whether he wanted to get up and ask for a carton of juice that he forgot to take along the way.

"Got'cha one," Green said, taking a seat across from Red. Planting the carton within reach for Red, Green said nothing else as he devoured his own meal.

A senior arrived at their table to remind Green of a mandatory indoor track practice after school, and when he left Red disappointingly set his meal down._ 'Why a_ mandatory_ one…'_

Green did a double-take at that, feeling slightly guilty he has yet to realize all this time Red was even a member, and he himself was an active participant that was fully aware of everyone in the club. "You're part of the team?" he asked, not hiding the evident amount of shock in his voice.

Red hitched an eyebrow,_ 'And you would assume that instantly…how?'_ Because he was certain all he did was look morosely at his sandwich, and judging by Green's disbelief he must have never acknowledged he was part of the team the entire time. Regardless of his small suspicion he nodded, bringing the sandwich back to his mouth.

Panicking, Green swiftly averted the topic by asking, "How's Pikachu?" Yesterday he managed to get Red to show him a picture of his pet, and he also explained he was not at all disgusted that Red would have a household "pest" for a pet – after all, Green was accustomed to being exposed to various animals all his life through his grandfather's research. Judging by Red's faintly visible fidgeting form he could plainly tell that there were plenty of judgmental people that would cringe seeing a mouse or even a rat as a pet. Red looked at ease though, so Green explained as much as he could about his grandfather.

Red was aware of Professor Oak's research, admiring every single aspect, and before Green started talking about his grandfather Red carefully removed the buds from his ears to listen respectfully. There was a glint in Red's scarlet eyes, not the dull gleam he had the first two days that looked void of emotions, of any feelings, and every so often a question would arise in Red's head that Green answered by recalling a certain memory about the subject to clarify. Green held back the urge to invite Red one day, just one day somewhere this year, to his house where he could ask all the questions he wanted—if he asked them all—and be exposed to several different creatures his grandfather studied at the ranch nearby.

For the lack of a better word, Green found Red endearing if not difficult on most occasions. Green occasionally threw a comment or two, usually a balance of being a wise ass or a disgusting or crude remark – that never changed, but Red was becoming a tad bit more tolerant. But during lunch he brightened up, not through his facial expression per se, when Green told him his sister was going to pick him up, meaning Eevee would also come along.

They continued to pretend Tuesday morning never occurred. Green had no intention of physically touching Red, and he sent everyone a glare when they even thought of resurfacing the subject. Gold was becoming restless at his progress, and when Green passed by his locker he muttered a giddy "Cha-ching!"

If we really get along, Green thought, I'll just keep Gold's trap shut that this bet never happened. He could never even imagine how infuriated, how _enraged_ Red would be if he found out – it ran a shudder down his spine, but nothing like laughing at Gold's deflated expression couldn't remedy.

When his final class came and went, Green headed for the gymnasium, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Red arriving with a duffel bag. The brunet really tried to reflect how on earth he could have never noticed Red in any track meeting or practice, yet he was not given much time to question the mere thought of it when his coach opened the doors, barking at the two to hurry and change.

Red went for the stalls rather than the changing room; shrugging, Green fastened his sneakers, joining several others greeting him, only to be yelled at by the coach to do some stretches.

In matter of minutes they were sentenced to run laps, and when Red finally appeared he was looking disinterested as usual when the coach called him over. "Well, look who showed up at long last," Green overheard, stopping but out of view from the coach's sight. "I want to see you run for once, Red, jogging ain't gonna do you much justice."

Red quirked his head, _'Lack of effort, thy name is Red,'_ he thought plainly. Green snickered, thoroughly amused watching on the sidelines.

The coach redirected his attention to the other runners, "C'mon, ladies! I want to see you_ move_!"

Green briefly lamented how strict the training was having a former lieutenant as a track instructor. When he completed his laps, as well as everyone else, the coach proposed a little race between teammates to "really get them going." It was nobodies against nobodies, people Green had little interest over versus people he forgot the names of, and the customary event where he raced a few of the runners.

Everyone was going to have a turn, the coach reminded, but mostly directed the comment toward Red who was busily scrolling through his iPod to listen.

There was a round of compliments Green's teammates offered him for his performance, the usual "it's impossible to beat you!" ego-boost, and eventually his coach was suckered into giving his hair a ruffle to complement his talent. The coach's smile faltered spotting Red lost in thought. "Your turn. Let's see you up against Green."

Red's eyelids fell half-lidded, warning his coach that he was in no mood to exceed over a lap – it worked, making the coach announce that it will only be a one-lap race. Wrapping the cord of his ear buds around his iPod, he tossed his music player to the coach for safe-keeping, listlessly making his way to the starting line.

Green beamed an eager smirk as he made his way to the starting line. "Ready to eat my dust?"

They took their positions, readying their sprint. Red sighed in his head, thinking, _'So much for an easy day.'_

The whistle blew and they were off: Green knew he was going to win, even without looking back he could safely assume Red was lagging, so all he would do would be to run, enjoy the coolness of the wind rushing past his sweat-shined body, imagining the scenario how in the end he would offer a thumbs-up for Red's effort regar-

_why was Red passing him._

Red maintained a still look on his face, his breath controlled – he should have felt some weight or wind-resistance from the baggy sweatpants slipping off the contours of his slim waist, his plain black shirt riding up on one side. Green immediately assumed he was either becoming delirious or unconsciously slowing down, whichever it is was he quickened the pace, ignoring the burning clench he felt along his calves.

Red's eyes flickered over toward Green, not alarmed in the slightest he was picking up the pace, putting every fiber of his energy to outrun him – it was suppose to be a fun little lap, or meant to be at least, and truth be told Red would have liked to avoid tiring himself out. He was a sleepy individual, possessed a bundle of sugary confections and energy bars to keep him wide awake throughout the day stored in his messenger bag, but he never half-assed something competition-wise. He lacked the energy to do most things, like schoolwork projects that will never remotely have an impact on his life, but he had to consider when he reached the halfway point: did he really want to win, knowing the spotlight will be directed on him? Or leave things the way they are, never really trying?

Furrowing his brows, Red made the decision to put every effort into their race. The trickles of beaded sweat rolled down his face, down his neck. His legs were fine, he had plenty of energy in him, and Green was fast approaching.

When Green arrived par-to-par with Red, he used that initiative to dash, outdoing Green's fullest extent severely as he made his way from the midway point immediately to the finishing point. Although naturally reserved and never one to boast, Red was confident in his skills to run—including other sports-related activities he barely participated in—he seldom made the track meetings or practices, and he tried to remain unnoticed as much as possible. He would hold a steady gaze at his fellow runners that rushed past him in his paced jog, knowing without a doubt he was faster than all of them.

Green stopped running completely, his mouth hanging open just as the rest of the runners, and even the coach was rendered uncharacteristically speechless. Seeing as no one dared to say anything, Red jogged on over to the wall to lean against it, wiping his face with a towel from the rack beside him.

"So you could _run,_" the coach said first, "you could run!" he added more proudly, more animatedly for the first time in months. "You even broke Green's record by a landslide!"

Red extended his hand, as if to say, 'Can I have my iPod now?'

"Another lap!"

All heads followed the sound, every set of eyes locking on Green. He was fuming in the inside, livid even, but he wanted a rematch to confirm it had been nothing but beginner's luck. He was Green Oak: he didn't lose, he _never_ loses. He kept his calm, sounding almost friendly in his demand.

Red made a face, wondering why he needed to go through that again, yet he enjoyed a little competition every now and then, so he figured, _'Sure, why not.'_

Hearing Red's confirming thought, Green readied himself at the starting line. He demanded three laps, and when his opponent nodded he announced it to the rest of the runners chattering amongst themselves, all sharing the same train of thought of _'Whoa, he could lose?'_

The coach sounded his whistle.

On the first lap Green snickered, he was ahead of Red within a short span of time, and just out of curiosity he looked over his shoulder, witnessing Red stopping_ to tie his sneaker_. The coach in the background bellowed, "The hell do you think you're doing, Red?!"

Even then Red regained the lead, completing the first lap nine seconds earlier than Green, then proceeding to the next lap without wasting a single valuable second. The second lap came and went, Green always looking directly at Red's back but never succeeding to past him like he did before, hating every passing moment he felt like his world was going in slow motion to hear every single thought running through the other runners' heads, to see their facial expressions of mingled disbelief and surprise that made Green acknowledge halfway through the third lap he was_ losing._

Him, Green Oak, defeated against a _nobody. _Against someone that barely had any friends, barely spoke, barely was even given a glance by a girl, that fell asleep in mostly all his classes, that spent an unnatural amount of time with his pet rodent instead of actual people, that had an anxiety attack when someone invaded his space bubble or even poked him-

Red made it to the finish line, this time eight seconds ahead of Green.

He _lost._

Red reached for his towel, grabbed an extra one, and walked over to Green standing firmly on the starting line. He extended his hand, offering the towel, thinking,_ 'It was a good race.' _He looked up, fixated at the clock._ 'Hopefully she didn't leave.' _Red was masking his excited anticipation to make it outside with Green, to finally meet Eevee he talked so much about – petting a fennec fox was definitely new.

The brunet snatched the offered towel, tossing it playfully from one hand to the other, throwing it in the air twice, then balled it up in his hands. Red's focus never left the clock, using this distraction he scrunched the balled up towel tight, tossing it in his hands experimentally to see if it would unravel itself. Seeing as it did not, also noticing how it felt a bit hefty in his possession, he steadied his arm, his fingernails digging deep into the fabric as he aimed and chucked it ruthlessly at Red's distracted form.

Even though his fury may have been petty to all that witnessed it, Green could not bring it upon himself to care: not about Red, not about his running mates he pushed aside, not even the detention he was expected to receive on Monday for his behavior and refusal to listen to his coach shouting at him to "Come back and apologize!"

The brunet heatedly stomped his way to his locker to reclaim his possessions, locking it shut he left for the parking lot, leaving Daisy to drive in silence seeing as her little brother was in a terrible mood to answer her harmless questions. When Eevee tried to comfort him, he merely ignored the whining and curious little yips.

In the gym, however, Red picked up the towel Green tossed at him, ignoring mostly everyone's weak compliments and his coach's encouragement to come to practice more often. Reclaiming his music player, Red secured his duffel bag, exiting the gym early despite the ten minutes left to the club, and made his way to his locker to leave the duffel bag and fasten his messenger bag over his shoulder.

Red told himself he should have seen this coming, that he should have known better than to think someone like Green could actually become a better person to some extent. Red was grateful to himself for never letting Green in, but disappointed with himself all the same that he almost allowed it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Am I incorporating rivalry angst? Hell fucking yes. It's my favorite kink in originalshipping fics /guilty as charged. And for now that's it from me, so thanks for your reviews! I'll make sure to reply to them asap or before the next update like I usually try to.

initially i was thinking of Red working in a department store, but my other guilty kink are for cafes and stuff overpowered me. psh i regret nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Ack, I'm so sorry! Things have been very hectic with school, then all of a sudden, whoomp! Hurricane Sandy pulverized most of NJ. It was such a major pain. I hope everyone stayed safe! Ahh, but this week without school has finally given me time do much at least something, but this update is still…ughh. I'm not entirely happy (as usual) but something counts as something!  
><strong>Extra note<strong>: Incorrect grammar is intentional in the beginning, but only for text messages. Wherever else it happens it just my usual amount of stupidity. Bless you all for dealing with my characterizations;; and without further ado, other than these other messages, I present a moderately long chapter for my absence.  
><strong>Special thanks<strong>: to _Silueby Harmakido_, a.k.a _ Mystia Katsuragi_, my most scariest beta to date but goddamn she does not let me wallow in the pits of my inferiority complex, kudos to this fucking awesome girl :u  
><strong>Warning<strong>: Use of the word fag. MORE ANGST. And choppy violence ahoy. (this fic's second category is friendship -insert magic sparkles here- it's becoming so fitting lately ahaha no.)  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Nothing has yet to change;; I continue to own nothing. orz

* * *

><p><strong>Ruby<strong>: I can't believe you actually struck him with a towel. What are you, five?  
>Sent: Feb 5<p>

**Sapphire**: yer gonna apologize 2morrow or somethingg, rright? :/  
>Sent: Feb 5<p>

**Gold**: Jfc anSWER YOUR PHONE ALREADY  
>Sent: 7:18 PM<p>

**Gold**: I left you alone yesterday  
>Sent: 7:18 PM<p>

**Gold**: Dont make me have to provoke you  
>Sent: 7:18 PM<p>

**Gold**: Because i will  
>Sent: 7:19 PM<p>

**Gold**: Guess whos gonna be winning soon. Aww yiss your bitchass is going down  
>Sent: 7:19 PM<p>

**Gold**: You lost all your fag appeal mad quik tho  
>Sent: 7:20 PM<p>

**Gold**: Quick* ugh i am so fucking done with your bullshit touchscreen  
>Sent: 7:21 PM<p>

Oh no, forget the touchscreen, _everything_ became _absolute bullshit. _His door was locked to prevent Daisy from barging in; he blasted the surround sound to his video games, thoroughly enjoying the excessive ringing in his ears from the loud, blaring noise of Green's character trekking through a mildly empty field, setting trees and cabins ablaze with the grenades in his inventory. The distraction lasted three hours before he succumbed to boredom, choosing to sleep his Saturday away, and now that he decided to check the messages on Sunday night, he instantly began to regret it.

Never bothering to charge the device, his irritation intensified as he scrolled through the messages, the momentary pauses would be filled with the alerting chime of his phone's battery approaching zero. Green fought with the charger, his trembling hands unsteady to connect the prongs to the outlet, and he cursed under his breath when the connection was finally established for his phone to charge.

And so returns his initial anger that everything has become _absolute bullshit._ It was unreasonable of him—or at least he thought of it as much, but he was past caring—to pinpoint his assumptions on Red being the source of the news passing along so quickly in a matter of two days. His inbox was flooded with other messages: track team members, former girlfriends, the ordinary bunch that sent him a message every now and then – _all of them knew. _Probably one or two may have sent him something completely unrelated, he wasn't sure, but he was a bit overwhelmed at how many people decided to squirm their way into his life to message him about his miserable loss.

Don't these people have anything better to do, oh my fucking god, Green moodily thought, his eyes narrowing as he selected multiple messages to delete. He wanted to think, wanted to _believe_ it was no big deal – it wasn't as if he lost anything majorly important, it was just indoor track_._ It was merely an extracurricular activity he participated in, something to keep his mind balanced, his headaches at ease, to release the stress forming inside – a track star, the title all his.

Or _was_ his.

Green felt the frustration rising again. Losing? _Losing? _Green Oak and 'losing'—or anything synonymous with failure, for that matter—were never even used in the same sentence before or, as a matter of fact, should _never_ be used in the same sentence. Despite having the awards for his grades throughout the years, just one little blunder made every accomplishment feel absolutely useless. It was like having an undesired smudge on the perfect, painted canvas, a yellow marker accidentally swiping against black.

Resisting the urge to throw the flimsy device at the wall, Green took a seat on his computer chair, swerving around in circles, his emerald eyes staring blankly at the ceiling fan. He drew his thoughts back on Red being the rat of his dilemma, and he knew it wasn't true

but it felt so much better shifting the blame to him.

Red would keep his mouth shut as he would normally never speak much to anyone else besides Yellow, perhaps Silver too, or whoeverthefuck else. The students gave him little acknowledgment, and despite being nosy teenagers, they might not even attempt to pry answers out of Red. Or, if they did, Red would send them a pointed gaze that might drive them away, startled by the blank, coldness of his bloody red tinted eyes.

Green felt his hand twitch, and slowly it balled into a fist.

Red could tell _anyone_ if he pleased. Green was _not _going to give him the benefit of the doubt, and like hell was he going to force some answers out if he had to. Although his gut was telling him how wrong he was, Green felt a great deal of satisfaction: if he gaining all this unnecessary anger in a single night, it was only fitting Red felt his hell.

**Blue**: i am going to kick your sorry ass  
>Sent: 9:57 PM<br>**Me**: Ask me how many fucks I actually give right now  
>Sent: 10:19 PM<p>

* * *

><p>On Sunday night, Red was bundled in his blankets. His mother left for the airport on Saturday for a vacation trip—that he was able to plan yearly in advance since the beginning of his freshman year through a certain source in his allowance—and in the terminal they left with a quiet goodbye, her hands running soothing circles on his cheek. She brushed his black fringes behind his ear, and pressing her lips on his forehead she whispered, "Stay safe, and call me when you need me. Please, <em>please <em>tell me if…if anything happens."

Her worries exposed her crow's feet under the layer of foundation smearing her face, the faint traces of fatigue smudging the tails of her thin eyeliner as she scrunched her face occasionally as the clock ticked down the minutes until her flight's arrival. Red wheeled her two large suitcases to the entrance, idly watching the passing passengers sorting a line through the metal detector. He eventually reached the end line for visitors, and with a wave he watched her past the security attendant. Before she continued forward, she regarded her son with a soft smile, mouthing the words, "I love you."

The weather for her trip was ideal. Then, as he settled back home, he slept the entire day away, Pikachu nestled on his pillow, but before his eyelids grew heavy, he heard a faint buzz: it was his phone, no doubt about it, but Red only draped the blanket over his head. On Sunday night, he spent the majority of the day in bed, entertained by Pikachu stuffing its mouth with its food pellets, scurrying left and right under inconspicuous corners of his room. Red sat upright in his bed, hugged his legs, and rested his chin on his knees, shuffling slightly in his maroon sweater.

His fingertips felt as cold as a corpse, hands shaky while he typed on his phone, his toes curling and uncurling the blanket spread of his bed – nervous, Red was feeling nervous. He sought hope in the weather reports: he had a chance, a very strong chance the impending snow storm will rage for two days, the third day to be spent cleaning the heavy two and a half feet of snow. Red was eternally grateful the snowstorms were unpredictable, that there could be a snowstorm one week, followed by a grace period, then another snowfall.

Red figured ignoring Green over the next few days will honestly amount to nothing, and despite their short acquaintance, Red gathered enough information on the egocentric senior. What are the odds the high school "star" loses to someone he just met, and that same someone just fails to perform exceptionally to elude unwanted attention. Or that he, the ever so quiet and "emphatic" Red, would spread the news around when all he did was return home, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants, his eyes focused on the cement beneath his running shoes.

Red gathered Pikachu into his hand—the creature was busily scratching against the metal post of his bed—tucking himself and Pikachu into bed for the night. Red patiently waited for his friend to close its beady black eyes shut. Just as Pikachu's eyelids grew heavier in the passing minutes, Red shifted under the covers, drew the blanket forward to cover his pet's small body, and used his index finger to scratch gently behind the rodent's ears.

"Sorry," Red whispered to his friend, his voice jaded and strained, his poor attempt at a small smile failing to form on his lips. "I thought…" he gulped down the lump in his throat, unsure how to clarify. "It's just us, I guess…"

In a vacant house.

Red withdrew his hand, gazing long and hard at Pikachu's slumbering form. "I thought I could have gotten you a new friend."

* * *

><p>The snowstorm accumulated less than expected, leaving anyone on a Monday to remain asleep on their beds. On Tuesday, however, the roads were clear enough to commute, yet Red refused to budge on the sunny Tuesday morning to leave for school. His mother had called on Monday night; their conversation was brief, lasting less than five minutes. It was just the usual news: she was pleasantly enjoying her vacation, asking questions whether the snowstorm may have caused any damages or the like in a motherly exaggeration.<p>

He reassured her after some time, probably in the third minute, then wished her the best for the remainder of her vacation days. Tuesday was spent like the other days: either alternating between staying in his bed or making his way downstairs to scour food in his fridge or plop himself on the sofa to watch television. Yellow—he did feel guilty throughout the morning, how could he have just left her with Green and Gold in the morning? Depending on their mood, they might either disregard her or badger her—fully understood Red's predicament, encouraging him to clear his head for one more day.

Wednesday was an uneventful morning: waking up, leaving Pikachu alone in the house, getting ready for school, filling his bag with snacks to keep him awake, arriving to the self-proclaimed hellhole, and heading to the gymnasium—not without sending a curious glance at the flyer for a last minute admittance to join the basketball team—strongly resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his coach desperately trying to convince him otherwise_ to not quit the team, Red, you're a natural, just look at your record time _and much other nonsense Red droned out. His coach, although begrudgingly, wished Red the best of luck on the basketball team, joking whether he possessed any special hidden talents in that sport.

It was more like he was outstanding in just about any sport that he tried as a child, but growing up meant a loss of ambitions, and soon everything began losing its playful flare.

Setting the large buds of his headphones over his ears, Red stuffed his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie; the squeaking noise of his converse against the polished maple flooring followed him to the exit. His drowsy scarlet eyes spotted a rack of basketballs: it's been years since he attempted basketball, it's been years since he bothered exerting all his energy in anything other than running. With a shrug of disinterest, Red maneuvered through the hallways, entered the cafeteria, secured his breakfast, and scanned the area quickly before taking his usual seat at the far end of the lunch room – safe; everything seemed safe enough to eat his breakfast in peace.

The teen echoed the lyrics in his head, thrumming the beat with his free hand, his eyes lowered on his spoonful of cereal he raised to his mouth. Although he was only a quarter of the way finished with his breakfast, Red felt his headphones yanked forcibly off his ears.

"Yo. Sorry 'bout that, I wouldn't have gotten your attention otherwise. While I'm at it, what'cha listening to? Anything interesting?"

Gold pressed Red's headphones near his ears, his cheerful smile twisted into a frown, his eyebrows furrowing. Shrugging, Gold returned Red's headphones without a fight, disregarding the bewildered glint in Red's scarlet eyes. Snatching his headphones back was done in a slow movement, as if Red was processing that he would not be involved in a heated glare-down to reclaim the buds, though he held back the temptation to moodily send a glower to the chipper junior, he still offered an appreciative nod.

Gold drew an orange juice carton from his pocket before settling down on the chair; absently he tore off the tiny straw on the side of the pint, fumbling to rip the plastic covering. "News travels quickly, you know? Someone told me what happened on Friday," Gold paused, grinning slightly he secured the tiny straw in the opening of his juice carton, "so I know you didn't snitch."

Red drew another spoonful of cereal, not saying anything yet attentively listening.

"You don't look like a gossiping douchelord anyway," Gold took a long sip of his juice before continuing, "but others think you had this thing all planned out. Here me out on this, 'cause I shit you not, I'm hearing one conspiracy theory after another. I'll save you the time before Green comes crashing in—I'm pretty sure he's still pissed as fuck. I dunno, I think if this day gets any saltier for him he's going to lose his shit—but whatever, let me shorten this one: so like I said, something along the lines of you planning this all along, staging the whole, 'I really don't want to do anything'-attitude, and waiting for that right moment to embarrass him," Gold's eyes searched around the lunchroom, looking for the right words. Releasing a heavy sigh, the junior leaned forward, swishing the tip of his straw with the pad of his finger. "Which…still doesn't make a lick of sense. I guess they mean when you two became pals or hell should I know. Why would you want to be track star anyway? Were you actually trying to embarrass him?"

Losing his appetite, Red set his breakfast aside, a familiar cold returning on his bony fingers, and in the back of his mind he felt a mild pain from the aggravation building up in a single hour. The senior shook his head, his frown still in place.

"I thought so. Things are just rough around the edges for now, I guess. I give it two days max before Green chills out, or as long as nothing else happens today. I don't have to tell you this, but just ignore him. He becomes the worst prick in this goddamn world if you press the wrong buttons while he's raging like a little bitch, it's just so ughh when that happens." Gold mentioned sourly, his eyebrows knit together as he faintly recollected his previous experiences. Snickering again, Gold pressed on, "Since I gave you a word of warning, can you tell me about Silver? Please? It'll help me figure out what his problem is with me right now."

Red relaxed a little, deciding to dryly humor the energetic junior even if it was a rude introduction all together, and normally Red would usually decline any ridiculous conversations with classmates, but then again information was still information. It was for the best he quit the track team, it was for the best he never became attached to the newfound notion of becoming friends with someone other than the usual bunch, and it was for the best he would know what to expect. Sure, it unnerved Red he would likely feel Green's wrath if he was still enraged by his loss, but at this point in time, Red had little concern over anything. He was too exhausted to tolerate the nonsense of such petty hostility—although he wasn't exactly friendly himself to Green the very first time either—and too exhausted to send Gold away for forcing his way into his space.

"Silver has been-"

Looking away for a brief moment, Gold's perked smile drooped into a strained, fine line, leaving Red to have his words die out as he leveled his view in the direction of the junior's gaze.

"Incoming Green. Abort, abort," Gold warned frantically, his hands making a shooing gesture to the senior. "This is the perfect time for you to be like, ollies outties. Go, go, go."

Red didn't need to be told twice: he left his tray behind on the table, power walking through the incoming crowd. The less he had to deal with peevish Green Oak, the better.

* * *

><p>The car ride to school was less than eventful, but silently appreciated: Daisy had knocked on his door in the morning, brushed the lose strands of hair away from his mouth, reassuring him he could continue to sleep for another half hour after offering her sibling a ride to school. She was stuttering with her words when he sluggishly stalked into the kitchen, his emerald eyes widening in disbelief she had made him breakfast, breezily she pointed at his options. When he failed to respond for a good few minutes, she nervously giggled under her breath, excusing herself so she could find the car keys while he ate – to say he was surprised was the understatement of the century, she never even nitpicked him over the fact he was walking around the house in his boxers.<p>

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Daisy hastily rummaging through the living room, faking the act of actually searching for something: Daisy was extremely organized, the most organized in the entire family, her keys were always neatly hanging in her room beside her vanity mirror. Her thoughts revolved around,_ 'Does he like it?'_,_ 'Did I add too much pepper?'_, and_ 'Maybe a nice surprise for dinner will make him feel better.'_

Before the wave of guilt could sink in, Eevee was scratching the leg of his chair, yipping loudly for its breakfast or even a scratch on the ear if Green was willing. With the resolution to let his anger subside, or at least within his own household, he swept the fox off the floor and set Eevee on his lap, alternating between feeding himself and feeding his pet. After a quick bath and a slip of clothes later, he fastened the laces of his shoes, still ignoring the stream of incoming texts making his phone vibrate on the end of his bed.

At every red light, Daisy would thrum her fingers against the steering wheel and open her mouth occasionally to break the ice but close it right after, losing every bit of her confidence to ask Green of his troubling predicaments. At one red light she thought, '_I wish I could at least turn on the radio. Oh, but I don't think he wants any noise…'_

Green had his eyes transfixed on the passing snowy scenery. "You could turn on the radio, you know, I'm not stopping you."

"H-Huh? Oh, sure, ok-okay," she piped, her hand shooting out almost immediately. Her finger accidentally brushed against the volume dial, blasting the music loud enough for both of them to jump.

The brunet cupped his hands against his ears, eyes scrunched tight. "Fuck, Daisy! Turn it down!"

"Ahh, I'm sorry!" she cried, her voice lost to the volume. _'I'm so, so sorry! I just keep making things worse! Augh, no, I didn't mean to press that button!'_

Her shaking fingers finally secured the dial, and once she lowered the volume, she returned her hands firmly to the steering wheel, apologizing under her breath as she peered in the rear view mirror, alarmed by the number of cars gathered behind her, impatiently honking their horns.

"Can you just…" he exhaled sharply. He was going to have such a shitastic day, he could just feel it. "Drop me off at the next block?"

_'Way to go, Daisy, now he's feeling even worse. Ugh, stupid, stupid!'_

Upon arriving to the next block, Green did not open the door immediately, rather he was wondering if he could remedy her woes from his outburst. It was silly, he felt, he couldn't formulate anything reassuring but blurt, "Thanks for breakfast," and as soon as he said it, he exited the car, slamming the door behind him. Trekking forward, it took some time for Daisy to gear her car, probably trying to absorb the fact that her moody sibling just gave her a somewhat half-assed appreciative comment, but before long, she safely sped away into a sharp corner of the next intersection.

He had twenty minutes to spare—far _too much_ time to spare—pointedly ignoring the few whispers of those who were concerned, or pretentiously concerned, with his life, opting to hear what his coach has to say rather than not attend the practices at all. The gymnasium was only occupied by a few basketball players using half the court, the other half was the volleyball team – ah, there he spotted his coach on the bleachers, skimming through several pages on his clipboard.

His coach's attention strayed away from the clipboard to look forward, his face revealing his surprise at his former track star even showing up this morning. His eyebrows knit together, his lips pursed into a fine line, a single thought processing in his head: _'Oak better have a damn fucking good apology ready, that prat.'_

Green rolled his eyes, unceremoniously taking a seat beside the grumpy man. "What's up, coach? Before you mention anything about Friday, let me just make this perfectly clear: I am _so_ _not _sorry. Go ahead, kick me off, he _deserved _it."

_'This fucking punk, if I weren't under the bounds of this system…'_ His coach shook his head, reasoning with himself that it was just not worth picking a fight with Green. "Red rarely even stands out, kid. What is this grudge about? You two seemed like buddies anyway." Green narrowed his eyes, not responding, prompting his coach to switch the topic at hand. "Fine, fine. At least do me the favor: you're a _senior_, he's a _senior_, keep the tantrums under the ropes because don't think your sorry ass won't get suspended if you two end up fighting. In other words, Green, you need to cool it!" he barked viciously, waving an accusatory finger at him._ 'Just do this one little thing, you snot.'_

I don't appreciate people comparing me to mucus nowadays, Green thought bemusedly, bringing an upward twitch to his infuriated scowl. Humoring his coach, he set the man's hand down, pleasantly laughing for the first time this morning. "Yeah, yeah, I got'cha. And you do me the favor of being my personal bodyguard against Blue. The wicked witch of the west is out for blood today, mine specifically, of course."

"Fess up: what did you do to get her pissed off?"

Green snickered brightly, beaming as if he was proud he ruffled her feathers again. "Something stupid, as usual. Never mind that though." Readjusting the straps of his backpack to his shoulders, he stood upright, surveying the gymnasium distractedly. "By the way, who else quit? The slacking freshmeats or…?"

"Now don't think it's your fault, you hear me? He might be going for something more…exciting, I guess. It was Red; he's going to join the basketball team, wished him the best since there might be no open spots. Watch him amaze the other coach over there with some hidden talent he's been hiding from us all. Ahaha! Some _nice_ competition is always great between students, motivation and all that jazz."

Green stopped listening to his coach after he clarified the identity of the resigned member, his fingernails were clawing into the straps of his backpack, his uplifted mood swiftly took a tumble into a stream of coursing rage: he was left behind on the track team after his painfully horrible defeat, was left the center of the worst type of attention, had his _spotlight stolen-_

fuck fuck fuck he was getting a headache he needed to calm himself it was his senior year yet he felt surprisingly fine when he walked in and now students were entering and _it was becoming too noisy god fucking damn it._ It was a rare resentment he felt, but then again, he never experienced the necessity to be filled with so much distaste_ because he was always the greatest,_ the full, one-hundred-percent _best_

and goddamit he needed a bottle of water or the cafeteria's poor concentrated orange juice or something to swallow down his pills. Yeah, that's what he needed: something to drink. The sound of his coach's concerned protest died out as Green scavenged the halls, glaring at the lines of those who gathered near the water fountains—screw those early morning fitness classes—opting for the dreadful lunch room instead. Snatching a pint of juice got him an earful from the lunch lady, but he set his backpack on a nearby table; he brushed his belongings to the side to find the compact case.

Ah! That silver gleam! Briefly looking around him, only a few were offering him any mind—how long will they talk about his loss?! He could hear them both verbally and mentally, his patience was honestly withering thin. It was a faulty win! _Faulty._ He should scream at the bunch, but he reasoned there was no use explaining to such nosy _dipshits_—he popped a pill in his mouth, drowning the medicine down with the carton's hearty twenty five grams of sugar. After he was done, he tossed the carton into the trashcan—and he would like to point out that the bin was a fair distance away, and he made it in perfectly without hitting the rim or missing entirely, unlike the less competent—he stuffed his belongings back inside his backpack, stopping momentarily as he spotted Gold out of the corner of his eye. Some students were preparing to leave, blocking the view of the student Gold was animatedly talking with across the table.

Sighing through his nose, he supposed he owed Gold some answers, or at the very least a chat. Gold seemed to notice him when Green gathered his belongings, slugging his backpack on one shoulder, and swerved around the other students to reach his table. The correlation between the particular seat Gold had chosen with Red's usual spot slowly dawned on him, along with the frenzied little panicking movements Gold was gesticulating with his hands. Green hissed at the students to move aside, receiving some bitter "Hey!" and "Watch it!" cries, then finally the brunet senior met with Gold, who was grinning sheepishly while waving a welcoming greeting.

"Beautiful weather we're having, ya'know," Gold dreamily sighed, raising one hand to gesture at the view of the world outside the glass dome. "If you listen closely, you can hear the sound of my mother screaming in the distance of me failing to tell her where the remote is after she decided to clean my room without permission." _'Shit, why did he leave his tray behind! Don't you dare get perceptive with me today, Green Oak, dishonor on your whole family if you do.'_

"I'm sure it's grand she might have found the porn stash under your bed," he snipped, lacking the bite he wanted.

_'Psh, under the bed? Puh-leeze, important pictures are always stashed in my old schoolbooks.'_ Gold chuckled, a trace of nervousness making his natural giddiness completely unbelievable. "What brings you here? We can admire the yellow snow next. Or make a haiku on yellow snow. Your grandpa is still into that, isn't he? Dude, where is he? I haven't heard from him in, like, weeks."

"Gold, you never eat cereal in the morning—no, shut up, no excuses—neither does Blue, and don't even try to pull Silver into this because there is no way you two would have been peacefully sitting in the same table without spurring up an argument."

_'Wow. Clap. Thanks for assuming I have no other friends.'_

Alright, he was becoming a little bit more sensible – more people were leaving, the bell was going to ring in a few minutes, and he could finally hear himself think: he was being too antsy with Gold, who honestly didn't deserve his sudden changes in mood, and the progressively angrier he became, the less of a direct answer he would receive. "Look, sorry," oh how it wounded his pride to apologize to this rowdy junior, "just tell me whether you were talking to him or not."

"Hmm," Gold hummed, he gave Green a curious glance before answering. "Eh, what the hay. Yeah, I was talking to Red. And look, this is just me talking, 'kay? How about we call this whole thing off? Obviously you look like you just want to punch him the first chance you get, and Red just wants some peace of mind."

Green's eyelids drew moodily half-lidded; he stuffed his hands in his pockets, clawing at the material within. His smile was forced, strained; cautiously Gold took a step back, the junior's Adam's apple bobbing. "I don't lose under _any_ circumstances."

_'What do you count Friday then?'_

Maybe the urge to beat Gold down would be better suppressed if he was blindly unaware of what went on in the junior's head, because he was approximately a few seconds away from losing himself.

"Yeesh, don't get your man panties twisted in a knot, it was just a suggestion. Keep it up though, seriously, you're on your way to making me fifty bucks richer."

* * *

><p>Gold had shrugged at him, mouthing the words, "Beats me," when they settled in their seats in homeroom twenty minutes ago, Red's chair remained empty. Yellow never paid attention during the lecture, her large amber eyes shifting between the view of the window or peeking at the window frame of the door, her thoughts a bore to him that usually revolved around her missing Red one way or another. It was such a slow period that his teacher barely noticed Green falling asleep on his desk—the sweet relief of basking in the warmth of sleep, nobody to pay attention to! His mind was closed against all else!—and the day went by even slower, regardless of Silver open to prod and annoy for the rest of the period.<p>

They formed a subtle truce to work on a lab experiment together—for two reasons: Green only acknowledged Silver in the class and could not tolerate most of his classmates, and Silver because he had a terrible superiority complex over the rest of them, all except for Green because, as much as he would deny it, Green understood nearly everything thrown at him—the exchanged conversations between them never lingered outside of the boundaries of the class requirements, so Green barely touched upon the tension with Gold, nor did Silver ask Green about his personal life – which itself was unheard of, Silver gave little to no concern over anyone but himself and Gold when it was noticeable.

It was not until Green had sluggishly trudged into the cafeteria, his head throbbing slightly from the noise but he has grown accustomed to large crowds—just not entirely. God save him if he were in crowded cities—and looked around for Gold, because hell, he wanted some coffee outside _and what the actual fuck is going on with those two already._

He closed in on the pair, presumably to act as a mediator between Gold and Silver shouting at one another, their shoulders rigid as if they were prepared one will attack the other.

"-does not involve you! I told you to stay out of it!"

"Silver, you don't know what he's involving himself with! It could actually harm you, why don't you understand?!"

"Now you wonder why I never tell you things, don't you, Gold?" Silver sneered, disregarding the flash of hurt contorting Gold's expression. "Leave my father alone, leave_ me_ alone!"

"Whoa, whoa. Ladies, what's the deal?" Green intervened, attempting to at least lighten the tension between them. That attempt plummeted when Silver hissed at him to step off.

Gold, on the other hand, ignored the senior completely. "I'm not going to! This is my business too!"

The redhead turned on his heel, not encouraging their argument to pursue any further – Silver was a walking grenade, his thoughts malicious as Green waited for Silver to leave. As long as Silver decides to relax his nerves elsewhere, Green wouldn't purposefully aggravate him further.

But leave it to Gold to act on compulsion.

Green was frozen in place, he should have hooked his finger in the hood of Gold's sweater to yank him back, and he almost wished he did so he would not have involved himself further than necessary when he already received a warning from his coach. No, his attention was easily diverted from the bickering pair to Red pressing the touchscreen of the lunch lady's computer to input his pin for his lunch, the black-haired teen either ignored him or did not notice his presence as his large scarlet eyes were fixed on Silver heatedly walking away.

The minute Gold had dared to grab Silver's wrist, urging him to reconsider his decisions, Silver landed the first punch.

Green stormed in upon reflex, shoving Silver aside before he broke into a tantrum to harm Gold more than once. Gold was bearing well; as soon as the hold he had on Silver was released, he cupped a hand to his mouth, rubbing soothing circles on the overwhelmingly painful sting along his jawline. Carefully the junior chomped a few times to make sure no bones were broken. Pushing him away did more harm than good to lessen Silver's rage against Gold; now, the glint in his steel-tinted eyes was honed on the brunet senior.

It was an uncoordinated swing that Green narrowly dodged. He blinked in disbelief: he was actually being attacked. Green fully knew Silver disliked him since he entered school, but he never expected Silver would actually resort to physical violence against someone evidently stronger and taller, especially one who was suppressing the urge for violence himself. Reasoning quickly that it was going to be for self-defense, his exasperation over these past few days surfaced once again, leading him to clench his hand into a fist.

Luck kept getting tormenting Green Oak: from losing his all-around perfect stance in school, angering one friend after another, letting family members feel uncomfortable around him, and allowing his frustration get the better of him. There was a lapse of realization for Silver that he was going to get slugged, he was paralyzed with a very strange glimmer of fear that Green has never seen in the temperamental junior, but he could not stop himself any longer – it was not an anger toward Silver, rather it was everything he gathered in a day, it was for the undeserved punch Gold received for just being what he always wanted to be for Silver: a friend, a friend that was burdened for caring too much for someone so ungrateful.

All sound must have been set to mute, or time must have stopped, because Green processed only a few things all at once: the clattering of a lunch tray and Yellow's bloodcurdling screech echoing a few seconds later.

Two blurs of red were distinguished: the blur of Silver being pushed aside to the floor, and the blur of Red's hoodie coming into the picture.

Green Oak may have been irrationally bitter, but he never intended to punch Red just now.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: guise i actually like Silver. no, i'm not making him a bad guy v,v problems going on for him and yeah.

_And here's a haiku because why the hell not_  
>where did i go wrong<br>with my life centered on gay  
>fuck i should update<p>

/be back when possible and not keeled over.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: Hello y'all, it's been awhile! I'm here to report this: I believe I can say there's not many chapters left but I'm not like a hundred percent sure though. Sooner or later I might actually get a well planned idea and this might stretch a bit but not agonizingly so. I can't wait to be done and actually say I accomplished a multi-chapter fic and didn't give up half way /strained gross laughter muffled in the distance  
><strong>Extra note<strong>: yo guys i am sorry this is pretty anticlimatic like you guys wanted a follow up and i cant do that because im incompetent and i needed to skip. goodbye friends prepare to be disappointed but thank you all for the reviews (40+ of them? omfg you guys are fab) like wow. **but i am so sorry i cant reply to all of you nice perfect people there is too many reviews and it would take a lot of time but i love each and everyone of you** just thought all of yous should know that /flees  
><strong>Special thanks<strong>: to _Silueby Harmakido_, for being the best person ever to beta and tolerate the amount of bullshit between my lapses of doing absolutely nothing and being an all around snot yay. I would have updated yesterday but she didn't understand that watching baby ducks on youtube was my numbero uno priority. ("IT'S ONLY THREE IN THE MORNING" YO IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOUR IN THE MORNING FOR ME I WAS SLEEPING LIKE A LITTLE BABY I WOULDNT EVEN GO NEAR THIS DOCUMENT AT THAT UNHOLY HOUR U CRAY CRAY)  
><strong>Warning<strong>: moRE ANGST I SUPPOSE? CAN I EVEN CALL IT THAT I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Ahahaha no. I have no ownership of Nintendo, Pokemon, and vise versa.

* * *

><p><em>'My life is done, it's just so done. How the fuck am I gonna cover up this bruise for the weekend, how the fuck will I even last. Can I just—shit, can I just tell her to come back another—no, goddammit, I kept up with so many excuses to just freakin' chill.'<em>

If there was any other indication of Gold panicking beside Green, it would be his lack of composure and a strange compulsion that drove him to gently poke at his bruised cheek with the pad of his finger, as if he expected the lingering, pulsating throb to vanish within the span of an hour.

This was the fourth time he winced in his chair, hissing under his breath, and anxiously drumming his fingers on the arm rests. Occasionally, he would shift his owlish gaze to the main office's blue-painted walls to several fliers littered on the desks and doors to distract himself from the ongoing flurry of thoughts in his head.

Green was slowly losing his patience more than usual, his glare heatedly fixed on the closed door of the principal's office; he knew he would be roughly ordered to remain seated again by the school's security guards, who were languidly chatting with the guidance counselors, standing beside the fax machines.

Never mind Gold, he was losing his patience for everyone. He acknowledged the impending punishment and the severity it possessed, and even if it was written in his records, he just lost the will to care.

On his left was Gold, uncharacteristically quiet, a wet spot forming on his knee where he left the disregarded icepack rest after his arm grew tired from holding it against his jaw. To his right sat all the rest: one chair was left unoccupied, then there was Silver with his head hung low—his fringe obscured his facial expressions—but Green wouldn't put it past him to believe the redhead fell asleep while waiting. After Silver came Blue, her legs crossed—one over the other—with her hands folded neatly, her thumbs twirling against one another.

Security was able to restrain her a mere twenty minutes ago as she spewed profanities at Green for deliberately punching Red and for almost striking Silver, her vicious snarls urging him to approach her so she could pierce the skin of his neck with her manicured nails. Blue paid little heed to Gold's injuries; she was more concerned over Silver's mental health and the physical well-being of Red.

After Blue was Yellow, who broke apart a rice krispies bar that she fished from Red's messenger bag into chunks so she could offer him the smaller pieces, little enough to not strain his mouth, although the injury forced him to grow quickly accustomed to munching lopsidedly, lest he twitched and cupped the bruise reflexively. After the ordeal, Red fingered and tapped his headphones to test whether any piece was broken or loose; he was unsure whether Green's fist had accidentally nicked his headphones as well, but he sighed in relief: there was no harm done. Even if Yellow swatted away his attempts to put the large buds on his ears, in order to ensure he remains completely immobile, Red placidly stated she was needlessly worrying over whether he retained a head injury, yet she was firm in her commands, so he obliged to them.

Then Green recalled his own dilemma: _his legal guardian will most likely be called. _He had yet to receive a response from Daisy, who he supposed would apprehend the call to home. In the worst case scenario, she used her free day to unwind away from home and, more importantly, ignore communication from her family by either turning her mobile device off completely or silencing it. All parents and or guardians were going to be called, perhaps excluding Yellow and Blue—because Blue never harmed anyone particularly, only desired to—it was a given, but he was beginning to fret and he _couldn't get some peace to even think what in god's name was he even going to say. _

_'Mom's not going to listen to me at first, I just know it,' _thought Gold, frowning thoughtfully as he weighed in his problem. '_She was already feeling iffy about Silver, and now she has a reason to not have him over. I can't not have him over, oh my fuck, but she's going to do it, she will make this happen. I—what, what can I even do?! No, no, no, she can't, she just can't. Oh sweet fuckin' christ, she might even transfer me out fuck me sideways this isn't happening.'_

Blue had shifted in her seat, distractingly inspecting her nails. '_And, of course, leave it to Green to ruin my day; it was way too quiet today. One of these days, I'm going to gouge his eyes right out of the sockets on his pretty face.' _Blue momentarily stole a glance at Silver, tiredly she exhaled through her nose, and quickly gave a loving pat on the junior's head. '_If that prickhole harms Silver ever again, oh boy, will I send Oak to kingdom come.' _She reasoned that threats are simple situations to brush aside—nothing in her power could make Silver and Green quit bickering—but Green initiating an act of violence on the junior was when where she her protective instinct took over, and despite her lack of strength to most other people she was readily prepared to pounce on the attacker. She was ready to attack Green too, but the security guards would only hold her down again.

Yellow surprisingly kept a closed mind and, even more gratefully, a closed mouth, but she did say something that piqued Green's curiosity over his vagueness. When the meek girl watched her friend eat, she held his icepack, drying his wet ear with a spare napkin, and she waited a minute or two so he could regain some color, rather than having a complete spot of red to coincide with the faint purple discoloration and traces of black specks. Yellow drew her concerned gaping mouth shut to frown, resolving her conflictions in her head instead of voicing her concerns aloud. _'I-I'm going to speak up, Red, and I'm sorry.'_ She set the icepack back on the bruise and quirked her head slightly._ 'I'm really, really, sorry, Red. I can't…'_ The slightest crinkle was heard from Red's icepack as she scrunched her fingers, but he did not think much of it and remained unfazed, continuously nibbling into his treat. _'This is going to stop.'_

Green shrugged, too pointedly annoyed, and felt a little uplifted when there was a vibration in his pocket. It could be a message from his sister, which meant the worst-case scenario would be adverted: he could face the music with his sister, not his grandfather. Holding his breath, he scrolled through the spam of messages he sent her.

**Me**: Daisy  
>Sent: 1:14 PM<br>**Me**: Daisy don't do this to me oh my fuck answer your phone  
>Sent: 1:20PM<br>**Me**: I've been trying to contact you for over an hour  
>Sent: 1:20 PM<br>**Me**: Daisy I will proceed to flip my shit if you don't answer  
>Sent: 1:28 PM<br>**Me**: I will make Eves pee on everything you love  
>Sent: 1:28<br>**Me**: And you will wake up to find that term paper you've been working on deleted from your hard drive  
>Sent: 1:29 PM<br>**Me**: This is urgent Daisy I wish I was joking but you got to work with me  
>Sent: 1:29 PM<br>**Me**: Daisy please  
>Sent: 1:33 PM<br>**Daisy**: I'm so sorry! I was washing my hair, but trust me I would have answered the phone if I knew! I heard the phone ring, but I didn't think it would be something this…Green, what were you thinking? :(  
>Sent: 1:50 PM<p>

This is fucking fantastic.

**Me**: Can we just forget what I did and get to the main point of who. Picked. Up. The. Phone.  
>Sent: 1:51 PM<br>**Me**: I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt it went straight to voice mail  
>Sent: 1:51 PM<br>**Daisy**: Grandpa picked it up and he told me. But I tried to tell him I'll go in his place! I really did try my hardest Green, you know I would… :'(  
>Sent: 1:52 PM<p>

_'Can I just sink to the bottom of the earth, away from this school and this life right now? Can I get some divine intervention, some dues ex machine—wait, what? Fuck, that wasn't the word. I just learned this today—'_

"Gold, will you shut up for just one minute?!" Green snapped, his voice echoing louder than he would have cared. The room drew to an eerie silence; the chattering few near the fax machines redirected their attention on the temperamental senior, and everyone sitting in his row hitched a curious brow for his sudden outburst.

Gold, on the other hand, retorted with an equal amount of malice laced in his words. "In case you haven't noticed, I didn't even _say anything_, so calm your fucking tits."

The pause lasted for half a minute before everyone resumed their normal proceedings, and Green felt more ignored than usual: now that nearly everyone in the single row held disdain toward him, he was expecting them to take full advantage to spite him. He could already feel his headache worsening at the thought of the aggravation he would most likely endure while trying to convince everyone it was an act of self-defense, a mere accident.

His phone buzzed in his palm; reluctantly, he decided to read her message, anticipating all kinds of alerts or words of caution.

**Daisy**: I tried talking to him about coming along, but he's adamantly against it. Ugh! Why does this line of stubbornness have to run in the male lineage of Oaks, geez! But…um, he's gathering his stuff right now and about to leave…  
>Sent: 1:54 PM<br>**Daisy**: I'm sorry I couldn't do anything.  
>Sent: 1:54 PM<p>

"I told you it would hurt to chew!" Yellow argued as she snatched the half eaten rice krispies bar from Red's hand.

The response she earned was his owlish stare and a trace of emptiness at his snack being abruptly taken from him, but he didn't argue. He resignedly slouched into his chair and pushed his bottom lip out, blowing a small puff of air to sweep his bangs aside.

"And I told you before you needed a haircut," she sighed, shaking her head in disapproval as she pocketed the snack.

Unfastening the buckle strap of her shoulder bag, Yellow rummaged through the contents to draw out two green snap clips, the icepack and damp napkin set on the open flap of her bag, then she perked an eager grin, leaning forward on her seat. She brushed his black fringes to one side with the tips of her fingers before setting the clips in place and laughing quietly to herself. _'Aww, Christmas colors!_' she giggled at her handiwork but almost immediately her smile twitched downward, her focus set on the discoloration of his cheek, and she weighed the possibilities of food that he could eat. "Um, Red, the vending machine sells croissants, o-or would you want a honey bun? Maybe two? Th-They're soft, and, uh wouldn't hurt you as much…? You're hungry, so I figured it…that's good for now…I think."

Green stole a glance at the pair. He was certain Red would remain seated and decline the offer, but he removed his headphones from his neck, passing his iPod to Yellow in the same, nonchalant manner as he did a few days ago during class. The staff members behind the desk warned him to stay put until he was called inside or wait for security to escort him, yet he paid them no heed and walked out of the office with a neutral disposition, despite the hollering bellows of the staff urging him to return. The atmosphere came to a standstill: nobody followed after Red, not even Yellow, who now fumbled with the cord of the headphones distractingly, and everybody remained in complete silence until the sound of Red's footsteps faded out.

Green tapped his foot, warily glancing at the other exit beside him; he could be digging himself further into trouble and would perhaps face stricter disciplinary action or even be forced into a session with the child study team that will painstakingly assess his "problems." The staff was preoccupied after Red left, Gold's paranoia enraptured his attention to anything around him, and the other three hardly gave him a glance throughout the hour.

It was only a matter of time before his grandfather arrived, and Green figured he might as well use the little time left over before he was either escorted back—if they found him, that is, or even realized he left in the first place—or faced whatever disciplinary measures they deemed suitable enough for his first offense throughout his senior year. Leaving his backpack on the chair—considering nothing worthwhile was inside—he rose to his feet, pretended to inspect the laminated poster of the school's rules with mock interest, shifting in his stride a step closer every few seconds before escaping.

He momentarily looked both ways to see if he could spot Red, and sure enough Red stood a distance away, but he was visible enough that Green could distinguish his hands stripping away the layers of his croissant into bite-sized pieces.

Green fished his phone out to send Daisy another text.

**Me**: Daisy tell grandpa to bring the carrier  
>Sent: 1:58 PM<br>**Me**: Eves needs to be here to help me out with something  
>Sent: 1:58 PM<p>

Exhaling sharply through his nose, he stole a glance at Red, who, thankfully enough, had yet to budge.

**Me**: Prayer circle Daisy I need this to work  
>Sent: 1:59 PM<p>

* * *

><p>It hurt. It really, really hurt.<p>

Red bit into another piece, hissing under his breath: even the slightest movement brought him an ache.

Four years without any trouble in high school seemed nearly unthinkable—it sounded like a fantasy, if anything—but one thing, just one, was bound to happen in the span of seven hundred and twenty days. Although they were monotonous days, they were _painless_ days; it was stressful for his mental health to be paranoid at every instance Green was near him. Although the punch during lunch was a mere accident, Green was the hot-headed, temperamental type,

and…

Red could only whiten in dread. If he was caught in another incident with Green Oak – humiliation? Another good-natured farce? A childish retaliation? His mother could never know of his ongoing circumstances; her fragile heart would provoke hot tears to her jaded eyes: she was never aware that her son—her precious, precious son—was a victim of constant harassment. He hoped that her appointment at the spa could revitalize her and she would return with a newfound enthusiasm, no matter how brief the energy would last. Yet his fingers became cold,

_nervous._

Red was nervous.

_'Mom can't know about this; she can't.'_

His moral support and best friend was resting at home. His jittery disposition might be eased if he had the little brindle mouse, resting its tiny hands on the bridge of his nose, its long whiskers tickling his cheek, its bright nose prodding him every so often: that little sense of comfort that _only_ Pikachu could reassure him with.

But he was in school, and Yellow did not deserve to be burdened by his dilemmas.

He felt nervous at the outcome of the decision made by his counselors. Out-of-school or in-school suspension? Maybe a warning, a letter to the parents? Either way, he would be dealing with a livid Green Oak. His anger for Silver would eventually subside, but not for him. Silver never made him felt inferior, Silver had never made Green feel embarrassed that his natural arrogance was overcome by someone who blended in with the crowd, embarrassed that he was bested in front of the other runners. Ordinarily, he would assume he was over-thinking how badly Green would inflict his rage on him, yet…

Red wasn't too sure of anything about Green anymore. He could never determine when Green would have his mood swings, where his sense of rationality was lost to him, until he lashed out.

It was a miracle his mother would not be there when he came home. She wouldn't see the bruise on his face; she would most likely faint from finding out he was having problems with someone, no less getting an injury from said person.

Pikachu, he needed his _Pikachu_, he needed his best friend _right now_.

* * *

><p>Time for Green to man the fuck up. He was not about to be, as Gold would modestly word it, a punkass little dickmongrel. If his grandfather was moments away from arriving, he planned to mend what was possible.<p>

His pride would never allow him to express an apology of any sort, _god no_, never in a _million years_, never in this _lifetime._ Apologies were reserved for family members, people of _importance_, and as entertaining as Red's company was, in their short time, he never fit into the category of utmost importance. Maybe, and only maybe, Red would be of any importance if he,

well,

Green wasn't certain, but perhaps if Red was able to emotionally move him?

Or some shit like that, I dunno, Green quipped in his head as he observed Red fidgeting for reasons unknown to the senior. Briefly raking his fingers through his hair, he exhaled sharply out of his nose, deciding it was better to approach him while he was distracted.

Tip-toeing closer, he was the most careful he had ever been. He bit the insides of his cheeks to remain inconspicuous, to remain cautious so his shoes wouldn't squeak against the linoleum floors. _Oh god, I look like such a buffoon,_ he thought moodily, why for fuck's sake have I sunk so low for a single person. But this had its worth: it would keep his school record clean.

If he could convince Red to vouch for him, he could willingly set aside their differences, even if he knew, _absolutely knew_, it was a _fluke_ and he was the _best_, the very _best in this whole school, county, _even for the smallest things, like his silly bet with Gold. Sure, he knew it was getting so _tedious_, dealing with someone who clearly disliked him.

"Feelings are mutual there, buddy," he hissed under his breath.

Eevee better arrive. It was the only option he had left to soften Red's unwaveringly cold heart, or even budge through the rigidly tough, stoic exterior.

_'Mom can't know about this; she can't.'_

Wait, what. Uh. Okay?

He could ask Red what he was losing his shit over, sounding so abnormally distressed in his head, but—again—first world mind reading issues.

He stopped midway as a moment's revelation dawned on him: he's doing his best to give to someone other than himself for a change. He established that this was going to be a one-time thing, considering his tolerance for people in general was withering thin.

When neither of two had any indication of budging, or acknowledging another presence in Red's case, they were simultaneously snapped to reality when they searched for a loud, yipping noise calling for attention, yearning for a loving pet and affection. Eevee's nail skittered against the linoleum; the fox sniffed Green's shoes with mild interest until he rose on his hind legs, his paws patting against his pants. Breaking out in an earnest smile, Green scooped his friend off the floor, chuckling wholeheartedly when Eevee yipped excitedly, and the energetic animal fondly licked Green's cheek.

The brunet greeted his sister and his grandfather with a strained smile, then he quirked his head to the side, signaling for them to enter the office so he could have time alone with Red. They blinked, evidently bemused by the subtle request, and exchanged glances before breaking out a smile of their own as they shuffled out of the two teens' way.

Red blinked. '_So, that's—that's a fennec fox._' He was so transfixed with the creature, he disregarded the obvious fact that he stood alone with the former friend who punched him earlier in the cafeteria. There was softness in his eyes that desired for his fingers to reach out, to run against the small fox's fur. Welled with pride, Green carefully stretched his arms outward, offering Red his friend to hold in the form of a truce, of forgiveness.

Little to his surprise, Red fell victim to the bait, and he took Eevee into his arms.

Snugly securing the creature against him, he craned his neck to inspect the fox, the faintest smile replacing the well-grounded frown on the teen's face. _'Nice to meet you, at long last,' _Red thought warmly._ 'I was hoping to meet you, Eevee. I wish you could meet Pikachu. Pikachu isn't entirely friendly at first, but I'm sure he'll take a liking to you._' With his free hand, Red scratched behind the fox's large ear, amused by the satisfied mewl it gave to a complete stranger. _'Maybe one day, but not today.'_

* * *

><p>"I know you might not wanna, like, talk to each other. I totally get that, but look, Silver, Gold wants to," she cooed sweetly, her hand cupping Silver's bawled fist. "It's a rough patch, boys, but you guys are biffles! Cool off, 'kays? Gold can wait," she assured, sheepishly grinning, "and you know what you gotta do, Silver. I'll yank you by the ear, mister; don't think I will if you don't kiss and make up soon."<p>

Gold laughed, but he winced almost immediately, working his jaw. He tried to ignore the pain and joined in her little fun, despite the faint red speck coloring his cheek. "Blue, that's mad gay—" a staff member hissed at his choice of words, "—and check it, we'll overcome our little mess-up like _bros_, not _biffles_."

"Same difference."

As Red and Green returned within the confining space of the main office, they settled in their chairs, acting as if nothing ever happened or they never left at all, and Green returned Eevee to his carrier, idly watching as the older Oaks divided their attention amongst Green's friends.

Professor Oak greeted every teenager cheerfully, asking them several questions on the wellbeing of their pets at home—they eagerly responded to his friendly disposition, mindlessly filling in their concerns and small anecdotes to pass the time. Blue took full advantage of her time with the eldest Oak, popping a question or two over the diet of her pet turtle, while Gold, a little timidly at first with the bruise he was sporting, received advice from both Oaks on several activities he and his hedgehog could do indoors—filling the room with a kinder atmosphere, lessening the hostility among the students.

Green watched his family with a twinge of disinterest, his focus piqued only when his grandfather began to tentatively speak with Silver, their conversation droned by the sound of Blue excitement's from ambushing Daisy about several fashion-related outfits, a subject on which he wasn't entirely sure nor did he possess half a fuck to care. He resorted to picking at the dirt lodged in the beds of his fingernails, not glancing up until his name. He was to report inside the office with his family, and filing behind them were Red, surprisingly Yellow, and Silver, who intentionally followed slower than the rest.

The proceedings came and went: he objected occasionally to prove his point that he, by no means, should receive any form of punishment since he had himself to care for, which lead to an act of violence out of self defense.

There was a jitter in Green's hands, so as a distraction, he watched and listened to the others. Slightly uneasy Yellow was occupying the room, directing a piercing stare at the hem of her skirt as her finger clenched the cotton fabric. She was free of thoughts, much like Red—although he made a mental comment or two of wanting another snack and his restlessness to leave—and Silver spluttered profanities in his head.

Silver was dismissed upon receiving a four-day suspension, yet the rest were meant to remain if they wanted to exchange last minute apologies or raise concerns or complaints.

Green, relieved he was freed from any form of disciplinary action, shook his head, biting back the urge to grin brightly because _this went way better than he expected_. There was no rhyme or reason as to why he was shitting himself a moment ago, and his anxiety had almost overwhelmed him – he could _breathe_. Home safe. Scot Free.

"Sir," Yellow addressed the guidance counselor, fidgeting in her seat when all heads remaining in the room turned to face her, "there is something I, um, want to say…please?"

He prompted her with a 'go right ahead' gesticulation, a sign that she nodded softly at, and she cleared her throat before speaking again.

"Red is my best friend, so on his…um, behalf, I'd like—I'd like for you to suspend him!" She rose from her chair heatedly and pointed accusingly at a baffled Green, her arm shaking from the enraged tone she used that, for a moment, surprised even herself. "He has been harassing Red! I'm—I'm sick of seeing him deal with it!"

She screwed her eyes shut for a brief moment, and her nose crinkled, as if she was doing her best not to lose herself in her emotions. When she held out strong, she cleared her throat, slowly lowering herself back onto the chair. Her eyes dodged the wide, surprised gazes from the Oak family and her best friend.

Red was struck with awe and looked a tone paler than his natural, nearly translucent skin; he managed to catch himself and closed his gaping mouth, leaning into his chair to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. _'Oh no,'_ he groaned in his head, _'this isn't happening. Yellow, please, if I wanted help I would have asked for it but I didn't and this is going to end in shits and shambles.'_

Daisy clamped tightly on Green's shoulder, securing him to his seat, the second she witnessed her brother's chest rising and falling in fiery indignation; she knew someone had to tame his temper and prevent him from plunging deeper into the midst of trouble. What she could not suppress was his mouth, prone to speaking what was on his mind, which she wouldn't doubt was ensnared in raw anger.

"Are you _shitting _me," Green growled, launching himself forward only to be sent a warning beneath Daisy's breath for him to calm down, her nails pressing into the fabric of his sweater as she rooted Green to his chair. The counselor, appalled an exemplary student was misbehaving, acting out of agitation, berated Green and sent him a reminder to watch his language.

Red said nothing, instead watching the events unfold before him, a glimmer of helplessness in his eyes. _'Don't you respond, you're only going to make this worse for all of us._ _Keep your big mouth shut while you still can, stop talking back already, it's not going to work, it's not going to help you and you know it. We're all tired, I'm tired, you're tired; drop it while you still can. I don't want this as much as you, so shut. Your. Mouth."_

Green snorted at Yellow. "I barely see you around, for fuck's sake! What do you know about what I do?" He challenged her glare, smiling wickedly when she said nothing. "Exactly, jack shit, so mind your own before you try to pick an argument with me 'cause I'm not in the mood to be dealing with the bullshi—"

Red narrowed his eyes. '_Don't you talk to her that way, you asshole. One more time, I dare you.'_

His grandfather, affronted by his grandson's rude behavior, curtly snapped. "Green! Mind your tone!"

The counselor shook his head disapprovingly and shared a brief statement of "this is no way a star student should be overreacting" before giving Green his final warning that he will be suspended. His suspension, however will span longer than Silver's because of his brashness.

"Oh, good, _good!_ Take her side; go right ahead!" He launched forward another time, escaping his sister's grasp. "Do it, give me suspension, give it to me _right fucking now_, 'cause I ain't just gonna let this slide when everyone is ganging up on me."

The guidance counselor slammed his hands on the table, declaring a week's suspension.

Daisy and Professor Oak surrounded the counselor, easing the tension to explain with an excuse that their precious brother/grandson would never behave in such a manner unbecoming of him.

Red stood from his chair, guarding Yellow from Green's murderous aura that made it seem as if he would approach her at any point and attack her like a backwatered, savage brute. They both held an intensifying gaze toward one another, holding their own stances with a heated dislike, and Green grounded his teeth together as he heard Red speaking in his head to _stop acting so childishly_, it was _pathetic_, he was only _screwing_ himself _over_ in the end. Green's hand twitched under the pressure, waiting to crack so he could have the chance to willingly punch Red square in the jaw.

"Fuck this!" he drawled loudly, stuffing his hands into his pockets in defeat. "I am D-O-N-E, done. Let me do the world a favor and sign myself out of school today. Fuck you—" he spat in Red's direction, "—fuck this—" he hissed, giving the quickest glance at the cringing, gnarly blue ceiling, "fuck _everyone, _I am so out of here."

Walking out the door, he snatched his backpack, lying in the office, ignoring the shrill protest of his guidance counselor demanding his return before he raised the suspension to two weeks, as if that would scare the one model student of this school. It absolutely did not affect Green at all. He chuckled dryly to himself, circling his hands around his mouth to respond back with a "smell ya later!"

'_See you in two weeks,_' he thought smugly. Passing his "friends," he casually strode off campus, opting to walk home to prolong the eventual confrontation of his death sentence from his grandfather.

He had many things on his mind: his desire to have taken Eevee, who no doubt hid obediently in his carrier, the chilly weather he would have to endure until he reached his house, and the urge to pop a pill or two and appease the necessity to cool his head after taking in too many thoughts at once for one extraneous afternoon.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Goodbye friends have you been disappointed yet. (i had to ask around like madman with my friends where the hell do people report even to when their ass 'bout to get suspended 'cause i cant ask the friends that would really know 'cause they either quit school or went to night school like wtf)

but seriously guys jesus dicks 40+ reviews and yet i couldnt haul my ass to write for shit i am so sorry. ive been in a creative slump and im still not doing too well to get ideas like i have them i really do its just putting them directly into words and not ugly bullshit whine whine whine. 'Till next time!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: howdy this is my second attempt doing this chapter ugh and for that internal frustration i deliver angst 'cause someone wanted background and what better place /pitiful laughing  
><strong>Extra note<strong>: remember when I put Green's competitive, I'm-never-a-loser-ever attitude? I made room to incorporate the _adventurer_ in Red ye  
><strong>Special thanks<strong>: to _Silueby Harmakido_. no REALLY THANKS OMG like yall dont understand how much ive been texting her over stupid stuff like im easily amused and need to send it to someone (my others friends are in my city its no fun to send them stuff theyre already aware of sighs well except that n and colress thing i try not to let my friends see that side ahaha) and even with all my nonsense and texts spam she still got this chapter checked thanks you wicked witch of the west now heres something she left behind yay

**_A note from Silueby Harmakido_: Thank you very much to the patient anonymous reviewer who reviewed on August 6th and motivated me to finish checking over this chapter, which the author sent to me more than two weeks ago;; (my only excuse is that I was playing _Animal Crossing: New Leaf_ and cared more about getting a perfect rating for my town than editing this chapter) With Bell's permission, this chapter is dedicated to you and the other readers who have been kind enough to wait without complaining!**

**Disclaimer**: I have no ownership of Pokemon, its characters, and so on and so forth. I have no ownership of Minecraft, Skype, or Xbox (but at this point, why would anyone really want connections now? battle cry go Sony).

* * *

><p><em>At a bright, youthful age of six, Red discovered a fascination with sorting through all the picture books his parents bought him, focusing on the albums that painted vivid images, everything from running waterfalls to the rugged terrain of an imposing mountain trail that would, upon flipping to the next page, illustrate the snow-capped mountain peak in all its water-colored glory.<em>

_He would lie on his bed, one arm tucked beneath his pillow, his free hand turning past pages. Every so often, he would stop flipping past the pages, his gaze fixating on several pictures that captured his attention, be it inviting limestone caves that encouraged him to ask his parents if they could book a trip to Carlsbad Caverns, or the animal biographies that were set aside as their own category in his reference books._

_Under his bed rested a battered cardboard box, the word 'Dreams' written with a gel pen on one of the side flaps, that possessed an assortment of treasures: an encased volcanic stone called obsidian, a small hourglass filled with sand from the Sahara Desert, unrefined precious gems like rubies and emeralds, several snow globes, foreign currency, a thin film of copper from a copper mine, and a vile of water from a freshwater_ _spring. He could have easily collected more than he could have ever imagined, but his mother frequently refused his outright pleads, and when she assumed he had left for his room, he would overhear his mother as she scolded his father for potentially endangering their son's well-being with "stupid, dangerous ideas!"_

_His father would return to his bedroom by his bed time, a book tucked under his armpit, and close the door behind him with the heel of his slipper. He would then draw the seat from the corner of his son's room, clear his voice as he sat beside him, and assume a laudably gruff tone to narrate the storybook._

_If it were a picture book, rather than an elementary school novel, he would sneak a book light with him to flash the bright beam on the pictures. A fond smile would grace his lips when Red excitedly reached out for the book, as if the small hands could delve inside the story to have an adventure of his very own._

_His father would gently swat his hands away, "Now, now, champ, you have to wait for the adventure to come to you," and this was something he said every night during story time when he felt overly eager. Sometimes, it was difficult for Red to close his eyes and count sheep to fall asleep when his imagination had already taken off at a run, thinking that one day he too would venture into a big, open field with no direction in mind._

_He favored his father's stories over the books: his father was quite the character who, even in the darkness, would act out most of his quest. By the end of his narration, Red would be tucked into his bed, then he would hug his son lovingly and tightly, though he always awkwardly shuffled out of the room, as if he wanted to say something but quit on the idea._

_But one night, his father ended their story time ten minutes shorter than usual, heaving a heavy sigh as he straightened himself in the tiny seat, absently drumming his fingers against the book in his hand. He vocalized his concerns on the matter, fully aware of his wife being adamantly against the very notion of it, but he proposed an idea to Red that never left his mind for months: his father was drained, drained of being chained to the house, but willing to commit to his fated responsibilities as a parent._

_He delved into a heavy-toned matter that Red never understood, terms he was never aware of, like "child support" and "shared custody." Yet Red only blinked, quietly listening to his father banter, until he returned to the main focus._

_He told Red there was no better knowledge gained than going to the source itself. Red could read about different cultures all his life, but the experience was more enriching when actually going to the country, the place itself. If Red felt, despite his young age, that he wanted to pursue a life of adventure wholeheartedly, "Then do you want to come with me, champ?"_

_Red nodded his head enthusiastically._

_He grinned. "Alright, I won't go anywhere 'till you're right by my side!"_

_Red paused and asked what will become of his mother. His father had no response to give, only, "We'll…figure it out."_

_The only reassuring aspect of that conversation was the bear-hug his father offered him._

_Several months later, his mother introduced the idea of school to him, a little building that would trap him for hours to learn about math, reading, and writing while taking tests on these subjects. He absolutely refused because he wanted to be like his father: he was going to see the world, and his father already intended on doing so. Red would just be accompanying him, at his father's request._

_Red knew his mother and father loved each other dearly, he could feel a heated tension between them every now and then too, but his mother had disregarded the presence of her son to lash out at her husband with all her might. Her voice gradually became hoarse from screaming, and on the other side, there were some shouts of protest from her husband as well. Red quivered, unsure of how exactly he could have set off such an argument, but his attention was jostled as his mother shrilly ordered for him to return to his room: he was going to be a student, he was going to have a career, and he was going nowhere that could_ kill_ him. She paused to regain her composure, warm tears leaking out her eyes from frustration, and meekly asked her husband_

_to leave._

_She was tired,_

_she had enough,_

_he couldn't do this to Red any longer, she said._

_When she raised her voice again, his father's shoulders slumped and he mouthed an apology in Red's direction. It was only a matter of hours when Red was sitting in the living room, seeing his father reemerge from his room with two suitcases and a duffel bag strapped over his shoulder. In a frenzied panic, Red asked where his father was going, why did he look like he was leaving, wasn't he going to take him too? Weren't they going to adventure into the world together—_

_His father was out the door without a second glance, without another word spared, without one last hug._

_—didn't he want his son?_

_His mother visited him in his room that night. Her presence left a lot to be desired, yet she kissed his forehead goodnight. She didn't bring the chair over to read him a story, nor did she any other night. She became busier, her appearance grew fatigued within the coming months, and the experiences she endured because of the children's startled looks at her precious, sensitive son left her paranoid at every turn._

_Eventually, she made him wear non-prescription colored contacts during school so he could have a social life without being scrutinized. The day he removed his contacts during class time due to a mild, persisting irritation, he jumped when a girl in his group circle pointed a finger accusingly and, as he said to his mother, called him "mean words."_

_She was breaking, and he never noticed until he grew older. It was a challenge just to progress from her standstill and allow Red the opportunity to cease his homeschooling and return to school near the end of the eighth grade._

_He was going to be a good boy for his mother, who deserved it. Just like she took the first step forward, Red searched under his bed one day, a deathly glare on the box, its artifacts collecting a thick layer of dust, the ink of 'Dreams' smudged._

_It was tossed away, just like every single letter that stopped coming after his tenth birthday._

* * *

><p>Red groaned, lifting his head from the uncomfortably stiff bench, blinking a few times to regain his focus on Silver, the blurred image hovering over him with a disinterested expression. The redhead huffed, mentioning something along the lines of Red possibly getting himself into trouble for sleeping inside the locker room, but Red was too dazed and drowsy to give his friend his full attention. Half of his face felt numb, and he didn't doubt it looked pink from sleeping on one side for too long, but he heaved himself forward, distractingly scratching the back of head, accompanied by a silent, prolonged yawn.<p>

Silver shook his head in disapproval, reminding Red there was only an hour before their shifts would end. Red nodded, sluggishly following Silver as he resumed his duties at the register, while Silver busily occupied himself cleaning the tables, evidently avoiding human contact as much as possible. While preparing a customer's order, Red busied himself with his thoughts.

For the past week, it has been slow, he admitted to himself. Silver was serving his suspension without much dispute, and he paid little to no attention to his phone, which buzzed frequently during their shift with incoming messages—from Gold, Red assumed—although the redhead has been nothing but silent. He shared nothing with his coworker on the matter, but it's not like there was tension between himself and Silver. The first work day after the incident at school, Silver mumbled an apology, at which Red quirked his head in a bemused manner before dismissing the ordeal completely.

He still sported a bruise on his cheek, but life goes on.

He may have received curious stares, fixed gazes, but even he stopped concerning himself over such looks long before this incident. This eye color was his, this personality was his, and now this bruise was his.

Life goes on.

Clocking out no less than one minute after nine, he bid farewell to Silver, stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, and trekked down the snowy trail, heading on his way home. Inside his mailbox should have his weekly letter from his father—no personal correspondence, just a check that he dedicates weekly, one for Red's casual spending, along with the usual money his mother collects from him for child support—and as predicted, when he flips down the metal flap, his allowance is inside, with more than he actually needs. He calculates how to spend the excess and decides to invest it solely in Pikachu, since he should buy some new winter clothing, with Ruby's help of course.

He frowned, kicking aside snow along his path, and spent a few minutes thinking about his best friend. For the past few days, Pikachu had looked ill, and Red was unsure of the cause of his rodent's sudden sickness. A veterinarian was nowhere near his neighborhood—give or take, it was a two and a half hour trip to the nearest pet clinic that accepts exotic pets—and his school work and actual work consumed too much of his time, including his upcoming involvement on basketball practice, so he couldn't make the drive without calling in sick to either. His mother could not run this errand while she was on vacation, so Red reasoned he should wait a few more days before risking taking time off to care for Pikachu. Sure, he might end up with an absence violation,

but Pikachu—

he wasn't a pet, an animal Red took care of so he wouldn't feel lonely. Pikachu was his best friend. Pikachu was the last present his father gave to him, and it's the only present he wants to keep, the only one that matters now.

A week later, on a Wednesday morning when snow swirled in the air so slowly it felt like fog, Red rummaged through the cabinets in his kitchen, displeased that his last chocolate bar was nowhere in sight—he faintly remembered eating half of it earlier, but he was unsure whether he returned it to its proper place or if it was now collecting dust beneath the coffee table.

Exhaling through his nose, Red prepared Pikachu's brunch in a small food bowl to leave inside his friend's cage—Pikachu rarely stays inside of it, but lately Pikachu's disposition was absolutely lethargic, its beady black eyes that usually glisten with energy have been half-lidded, and he's struggling against himself to stay awake instead of continuously napping the hours away—and bit his lower lip as he trailed up the stairs, the floorboards creaking beneath him.

He was terrified to peek in on his friend's cage, yet he steadied himself when he entered his room, as ready as he would ever be to face reality with all of its unfavorable might, he supposed. He carefully pushed the bowl of food through the bars, then stepped back a little, giving himself enough space to crouch to the cage's level and peek inside Pikachu's little den.

Immediately his eyes widened in distress, and he shook his head in complete denial, almost stumbling backward on his rear in his panic. He haphazardly threw his belongings off his bed: his pillows, sheets, and headphones fell with a heavy thump, landing all at once on the floor, and once they were gone, Red reared his attention to the cell phone resting atop the bare mattress.

Unlocking his phone—it took longer than it normally would have because of how much his hands shook—the pad of Red's finger hurriedly scrolled through his contacts to find Blue. He paid little mind to how many times he pressed the dial button; he cleared his throat and pressed his phone to his ear, a mantra running through his head.

'Please _answer_ your _phone, Blue.'_

* * *

><p>"Guys, just leave already," Green groaned, his palms pressing against his front door to slam it shut. His efforts to have peace and quiet in the house were failing, and his arms still shook from this morning's physical exertion, from the force he had to use against his sister. Daisy's maternal instincts were on the verge of a breakthrough, calling forth a once-repressed gorilla strength to push the door back just enough so she could poke her head through the open gap.<p>

In the back of his mind, he acknowledged how dangerous it would be if he actually closed the door on her head—and here, he acknowledged he had also reached new levels of family morbidity. He leveled the playing field for the most mentally disturbed Oak by a staggering five percent,through his calculations; cursed with hearing all of their dark thoughts, he figured was the most qualified to come up with such a figure, not that his family would ever learn of his opinion on their collective sanity, or lack thereof—as she continued to utter words of caution: call her immediately if the situation calls for it, never open the door for strangers, keep the blinds closed, a new pair of tighty-whiteys was waiting for him in the living room—"Oh my fuck, Daisy," he cried in exasperation. His grandfather, watching as a bystander as his grandchildren had their moment, merely tutted sagely, "Language!" as a stern reminder to his grandson—and last but not least, a reminder to keep the toilet seat down.

With all this said and promised to be done, or not done, Daisy convinced her younger sibling to say the _magic words_ before she finally left him at home alone, and with much reluctance, Green stopped pressing forcefully against the door.

His hands rejoined his side and slipped into the pockets of his pajama pants—even though he was forced to stay within the confines of his home for his suspension, Daisy did not allow him to freely roam the household without wearing actual pants and a failed to understand why he should have to look like a civilized human being if he would not be spending time with them—and his voice, hushed to an audible whisper and laced with a grumpy, defeated resignation, groaned out a "Love you."

_Whoa, it sounds so foreign coming from me, like, when was the last time I said it? Throwbacks,_ he thought.

His sister eagerly responded with mutual sentiments, then she honored her promise, leaving through the door while quipping at her grandfather to hurry to the car. Green shrugged his shoulders and turned his back to her retreating figure, kicking the door with the heel of his foot, perking a modest grin as he trekked quickly down the halls to reach his room.

His booming footsteps drew the attention of his pet, who followed behind him with its four thin, stubby legs. Eevee pranced in its stride, yipping occasionally, diving head first to bite at the hem of his pants when he wanted to stop him. Chipper as usual, he chuckled.

Although he should have been angrier, now that he had one of the worst marks on his student profile, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder: his headaches would only be a minor issue, with only two people around who never gave him much of a headache even when they were there, and he could _eat without waiting for an unreasonable amount hours! _And as for sleep, he's going to gain it all back soon, as much as he wants! Forget waking up at the asscrack of the morning; this suspension is the best thing that's happened to him since high school started! No school life is the free life!

Just remove the occasional bouts of boredom, a lack of cell phone—god bless his grandfather. When it comes to grounding, only his phone was confiscated, and his video game privileges were still allowed!—and actual human contact with others of his age.

It wasn't all too painful when he really thought about it, and in his hype, he scooped his friend off the floor and cheered, "We're stuck with each other, Eves!" He made a quick grab for the bag of treats that rested atop the counter of a decorative table in the hallway. "And what better way to kick off this Wednesday with Daisy and Gramps leaving for the next town over? I think they're gonna be back late, who the fuck knows, and more importantly—"

He pushed the gap of his bedroom door, opening it all the way, and carefully launched Eevee onto his bed while he set aside the snacks and readied himself on his beanbag chair with an ungraceful plop.

"—who gives two shits right now? Not me, that's for damn sure, not until they get back. You and I, Eves, we've got to keep each other company for the next six days."

Lazily he leaned over to power on his Xbox, situating himself comfortably before launching Minecraft on his screen. Green kept his attention on Eevee and the game as the hours ebbed away, and at one point he directed his focus toward his windows and acknowledged the heavy snow falling outside, as per usual in February. Eevee obediently listened to his nonsensical rambling—Green swore he would freeze to death if he tried to take a step in this weather, which makes his suspension even better, since he does not have to trek through this blizzard going to and from school—and yipped excitedly when given a treat, prompting a "Whoa, Creeper danger. Get the fuck away from me!" from Green panicking to escape the green, blocky creature.

He continued playing for two hours, patiently waiting for the message to appear that would indicate when Gold entered the game. It was a snow day, and Green assumed that Gold's mother was still paranoid about allowing her precious baby to leave the house after what happened with Silver in school. And since it was a long-held tradition for them to dick around in Minecraft like nobody's business, he made sure the laptop beside him was secured to the nearest outlet and waited for time to pass, sending via Skype—knowing Gold, he forgot to renew his Live account—an invitation to his friend to start a video chat.

At the exact moment when Green felt bored enough to call it quits and take a well-deserved nap after playing Minecraft all day, Gold accepted his invitation. The two did not speak for some time before creating a portal to the Nether, avoiding incoming projectiles coming their way. Aloud, Green made a comment about his player running short on food, and Gold's character stared at him for a few seconds—_and he was given a cooked pork chop. _Gold was giving him a pork chop rather than letting him die in the Nether, and if that wasn't an invitation to break the ice, then he had no clue what was.

"Uh, thanks."

"No problem."

Another rolling silence seemed ready to fall into place between them, signaling Green to take his cue. "Sorry."

"Quit being a little bitchass motherfucker," the junior chuckled wholeheartedly, flashing a wicked grin at his webcam, and that was their first moment today of looking at directly at one another via video chat. They both exited the Nether, enthralled by their own antics, whether they were killing or being killed, being chased by wolves or being health-assaulted by spiders and nasty skeletons coming at them left and right. Their truce began at one point in their game when they decided to venture in the fields for the second time, and Gold took a hilarious plummet to his death when he thought he spotted a gold ore in the distance only to dig up a spot of lava by mistake and tumble to the deep pit beside his character. Oh man, once they enter safer grounds, they would mine every inch of the place and fight each other to the death over who got more gold, it's going to be gre—

The chime of his doorbell rang consecutively, almost frantically if Green could word it as such, and he hiked an eyebrow at the time indicated in the corner of his laptop screen. Sure enough, the clock was smoothly running; it was nearing two in the afternoon, and he didn't expect his relatives for another few hours minimum, nor did they call the house number to assure him they were returning early. Green was living out his important self-motto of ignoring the persistent ringing: just because I'm home does not mean I'll go out of my way to answer the damn door. Nobody is going to stand between him and fixing the rough patches reestablishing his broship to its fullest extent—

"Ayo, answer the door already, it's becoming mad annoying hearing your doorbell. I'll make sure you won't die, a'ight?"

Figuring he wasn't lying, Green proceeded to flip Gold's Skype face the middle finger before calling on Eevee to follow him. Although he was still a great distance from the front door, he yelled across the hall, "I'm not interested in whatever you're selling! My grandpa doesn't want your electric company's service either! And we love our Internet and cable just fine!"

The ringing continued, and it left Green stumped, since it's usually one of the three badgering his family with door-to-door salesmanship. Okay, what the fuck, no need to bang on the door, he thought moodily. The brunet took his sweet time fumbling with the locks, unhinging the chain lock from its socket, and even shooting a shrug in response to Eevee's curious head quirking over the stranger on the other side of the door.

Admittedly he had to blink several times to ensure his eyes weren't screwing his head over, because there's no way in heaven or hell Red would be right there, in the flesh, wheezing as if he ran here like his life depended on it. Scratch that, he would never _willingly_ be anywhere near Green under any circumstance, even now when he was serving a two week-long suspension because silent-boy-wonder flaked out on him when Yellow was running her trap – everything could have been a lot easier if she chose not to intervene, he would have never gotten angry and spoken out of line and wouldn't have a ten day school suspension – _so what in god's name does Red want from him before he gets angry all over again_

and at Green's house, there's no school administration, or friend, or anyone else to back Red up.

No, he'll choose to be a collected, responsible individual to avoid further conflicts that his sister or grandfather will surely find out about. Green Oak was not going to get into deeper shit than need be already; his record was the only valuable aspect he had left in his humdrum school life.

Exhaling sharply, Green cleared away any malicious-sounding undertones to threaten Red with a sweetener-sounding warning: "I'm going to give you approximately three minutes to get away from me before I sic the authorities on your ass for trespassing on private property." _Nailed it._

Once again, he was met with difficulties in warding off people from walking into his house. When he tried to close the door, rather than someone challenging him to a battle of worthlessly-spent strength, Red wedged his snow-covered converse in the gap between the door and its frame, preventing a clean close _once again._

"What do you think you're doing?" Green growled, giving the door another push to see if Red would relent and leave _like he was supposed to because no way will Red be sticking around so it's about time he left already._ His last resort would be to pry Red off his door with force if he had to, which is becoming the likelier option and is about to _happen_.

_'Just give me a few seconds to explain,' _Red pleaded, his throat dry and tight as he attempted to formulate a proper sentence, yet he managed to gather his remaining strength to make Green stumble backward, leaving the entrance to his house wide open for Red and the rest of the world. Green caught himself, flailing his arms to recover his posture, yet the sudden impact forced him to land unceremoniously on his rear. Eevee yipped softly, evidently concerned as he joined his owner's side, reassuringly licking Green's finger to appease his boiling anger, which was quickly expressing itself on the teen's features.

_'Oh no, oh no, oh no. I just pissed him off, this isn't going to help his case, he's not going to get help at all. What do you want me to say, do you want me to apologize, do you want to me to go on my knees and beg—'_

"Get out," Green hissed, his eyebrows knitting together. He was getting a headache, he was angry, Red was just as much as of a mental panic case as Gold.

_'I just want help, I just want to help my best friend—'_

"Did I stutter? _Get out! _What part of 'get out—'" he hissed venomously, exhaling a sharp huff as he hoisted himself back up to regain the little dignity he had left before he came close to lashing out at Red with all he had. He was not going to be held accountable for injuries inflicted on someone else when that someone refused to vacate the goddamn premises, even when asked, and remains an _obtuse, quiet dickrod _regardless. "—don't you understand?! I'm not here to hassle you, I wasn't even looking for a fight, and if you think for even a second I'm about to help," he paused thoughtfully to give a glance-over of Red's raggedy disposition, a look of anguish riddling his normally stoic face, "_you_ of all people, then holy shit do you got another thing comin'."

Yet everything he mentioned went through one ear out the other, because Red willingly went along with his tangent, his own concerns, completely ignoring any negative remarks from Green. "Punch me," Red croaked, and upon receiving silence he said it again, although more forcefully to match the tone of an order. "Punch me! I…I deserve it, right? Do it, go ahead." '_Beat me senseless if that satisfies you, as long as you help him! Laugh, make fun of me, I don't care._'

Put off by the demand, Green shook his head. "Or, better yet, get out of my face. I'm not…I'm not punching you, but believe me, it's really tempting. I'm not helping you with anything, if that's why you're here—oh, fuck me sideways, _no_."

Red blinked suddenly, looked up at the sky, before taking a deep breath and squishing his fingers into his eyes. His entire body was quaking, and although it could be mistaken as a tremendous shiver, Green knew it was almost impossible for the senior to feel any form of cold, as far as he knew. How does he deal with this situation rationally and less—as Daisy would put it—douchebaggy?

There was no in-between when he talked with Red, since it was either tolerating him when he came across as distant and self-reliant or very mellow, if not just as difficult to share a conversation. Upset was probably within the range of the spectrum, but not distraught to the point of spilling the faintest sight of tears—

oh no, this isn't good at all.

Tears weren't his thing,

_handling_ tears wasn't his thing.

The last time he dealt with a case of the waterworks was with Blue. At some point, the tizzy of her emotions spiked to its peak, and she became a teary mess of bleeding mascara and garbled gibberish that he couldn't decipher to save his life. The memory was clouded deep within the recesses of his mind, but he could recall every single moment where he played the whole thing off with one smooth line: "Uhh, c'mon now, Blue, you look gross when you cry, so smile, okay?"

She then proceeded to regard him with the most deadpan expression, which did eventually stop her excessive sobbing, but she pounced on him and dug her nails into his neck without a single qualm as he was beating the floor with his arm in a desperate attempt to convey_ can't breathe, oh my god, get off me, you demonic she-witch_.

Green bashfully scratched the back of his neck, humming thoughtfully to formulate the right sentence this time and not mess anything up, even though he shouldn't have the slightest trace of concern because this wasn't. His. Business.

"Dude, chill, we're not even friends, so you can't expect me to know how to react to all of this. Ugh, fuck it, come inside, but take off your shoes and socks or whatever. It's enough that the snow you have on your clothes is going to melt and wet my sofa." Green Oak, smooth talker extraordinaire, to the rescue of yet another crying teenager.

Red lowered his gaze to the ground, drew his hood forward to tuck his fringes further from his eyes, and peeled off his soaked footwear near the entrance. Almost immediately, he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, his fingers visibly poking around within the fabric, and in his head he cooed, _'You're going to be okay, buddy. You're going to feel great again.'_

He stopped thumbing the object in his pocket while Green half-observed. It wasn't entirely too baffling to assume which critter was with Red at the moment, but he'd have to play dumb as usual, waiting for Red to fill in the blanks as they go along.

_'I don't like this as much as you will, but you're going to be okay.'_

Green frowned. "Rude."

Red awkwardly shuffled at the complaint, which seemed to snap him out of his daze, yet his obscured eyes did not help in determining the conflicting feelings that Green could have pinpointed. They both disregarded the retort as Green whistled for Eevee to remain noiseless and follow while he guided Red to the living room where they could discuss

well

whatever needs to be discussed so he can rejoin his session of Minecraft already.

Red trudged along, his eyes still staring at the floor, and followed the sound of Green's footsteps, turning with him through the hall. When Green settled on a sofa in his living room, Red sat down on the sofa across from Green, situating himself carefully so he wouldn't press his weight on the pocket.

Casually, Green hunched over, folding his hands together as he cleared his throat. "So, spill it. No cryptic bullshit either, man; I don't have time for that. I've got a game to get back to."

_'Should I start with just asking for his grandfather's help, or…'_

He rolled his eyes. "And just in case you're wondering, Gramps ain't here. He should be coming back here…probably in a couple of hours? Yeah, that sounds about right."

Red squirmed in his seat, as if hesitating to pursue help from the Oak residents for his dilemma, but he yielded soon enough, breathing a defeated sigh as he stuffed his hand in his pocket again. Cautiously, he retrieved his friend and sat him atop the coffee table shortly after removing him from the hoodie, hoping Green would examine him. And maybe, if he's lucky—

"So I finally get to meet him, look at that. A reunion for everyone. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, though: my Gramps isn't a miracle worker, y'hear? He's a researcher, a professor; he's not a veterinarian." Green leaned back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Everybody seems to confuse his profession for some reason. From the way I see it, yeah, your friend here has something wrong with him, but he's also _old_. I think he's finally feeling his age weigh him down. It's about time you start thinking, hey, maybe it's about time to make arrang—"

In a swift, fluid motion that seemed all but a red blur to the brunet, Red leaned across the table, his hands shooting forward as they balled up the fabric of Green's cotton shirt in his fists. The damp fringes of his black hair split apart to reveal creases of sleep deprivation that marred Red's already sickly face, his red irises glossy from the thin film of moisture, his pink-tinted cheeks streaked with the dry, flaking remnants of his earlier breakdown at the door. _'I'm not giving up on my best friend; I would never give up on Pikachu. Don't tell me there's not a single thing you can do, for once, and only this once. I know you can save my Pikachu. Please, please, please, Pikachu is the only one I really have left.'_

Red lessened the strength of his grip, realizing what he did with a mingled look of anxiety and horror. His mouth parted for a moment, waiting for words to come out, but they constricted his throat; he ducked his head, ashamed of being incapable of pleading for his friend's sake.

Green latched onto the other's wrist, disregarding Red's startled flinch at the physical contact that he honestly wasn't expecting, despite the circumstances. "I said _chill_, Red, _chill the fuck out and breathe, _'cause if you haven't noticed it by now, you're freaking me out. That was a bad move saying that, jesus, I'm sorry. I'm going to help and so will my grandpa. Pikachu is going to be fine – look! He's just resting for now!"

_'Pikachu is going back to his usual self; he's not going to die—he won't leave me alone—he's going to be fine—'_

Green gently pushed Red back onto the sofa and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "I'm not a heartless sack of dicks, ya got that? I'd flip out if Eves was sick too; heck, I always have when he got sick and gross. Look, if it makes you feel better, I promise, by the end of this whole fiasco, Pikachu is going to be back to normal."

Commence his dignity level hitting the negatives; he had to use the accursed p-word to ease the tension between them. God, it left such a weird taste in his mouth.

But he didn't regret it. Red seemed a lot more relaxed, much less of a nervous wreck than he was when he arrived at the door step, out of breath and out of options, with no one else to help him with his best friend.

'_Pikachu is the only one I really have left._'

Green shook his head, clearing Red's earlier words from his mind; there were thoughts running through the other's head again, he should really focus on those. He could think about Red when they weren't sitting in the same room. Or not, he hastily corrected, since after this prat left, he could go back to mining for ore with Gold.

'_You're going to be fine._' Red nodded at the Oak's vow, his focus redirected toward his sleeping friend. _'We've both…we've both been promised.'_

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><p><strong>AN**: for the love of everything holy if some of you can come off anon thatd be great because even with a sentence or two that you guys leave behind id like to reply to and stuff but i cant reply sighs but toodles guys im off

_the image cover for this fic has been updated to a quote and danielle if you dont see it yet im going to very disappointed_


	9. Chapter 9

whats gucci despite how infrequent i am im still 100% fucking pokemon trash

s/o to those with the patience of a saint, to those that just finished another semester (soft weeping), and to those that have been really rad reviewing thanks

this is a really short chapter but i didnt want give everything away (even tho i should after like what a year or smth not updating omg)

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><p>Biting down on his tongue, Green fiddled with the temperature control dial on the heating lamp, ensuring the warming waves would soothe Red's rodent, who shivered in a coiled ball under a transparent hideaway dome. Upon his further observation, Pikachu would occasionally lift its muzzle to tentatively sniff the air before burying its head in the crook of its plump, fragile body. Fanning his hand an inch from the luminous bulb to check its temperature, he approved of the current setting, and accommodated the portable heating lamp on the screen cover. A minor but tedious sensation of awkwardness caused him to shift his weight on either foot, clearing his throat to soften the tenor of his voice, he offered, "Gramps will be home soon, so um…sit…tight?" Mustering a cough to amend the casual offhanded tone of his comment, he added, "You're gonna be okay."<p>

Making a pensive noise that rumbled in the back of his throat, Green grounded his hands on his hips, shifting his focus from the last-minute, modestly furnished terrarium housing the sickened mouse to the bare gray ceiling, the echoes of slow, padding footsteps and light thumping hops spurred a weary exhalation slumping his shoulders. "Don't know about him though," he admitted, an unwanted but profound uncertainty laced his voice – sparring one last glance at Pikachu nestled in the pellet bedding, the instances of the rodent's prolonged shivering ceased as it fell into a sound, safe sleep. In his ascension up the stairs, he bade the animals in his family's care a goodnight through a two-finger salute, withdrawing his hand he flicked the light switch off, firmly closing the door behind him shut.

The collaborative noise of his pet and abrupt house guest subsided into an uncomfortable silence, Green, despite his former disdain, trekked another flight of stairs to sneak inside his room. His door gave a jarring creak, rousing Gold's attention to lift his focus from his television screen to the monitor, his attentive, curious look melded into an expression of frustration: his eyebrows knit together, his neutral frown deepened to convey his exasperation reflected in his impatient amber orbs. "You!" he bellowed loudly, dramatically he set his controller down to grab the rim of his monitor, shaking it several times to emphasize his moody disposition, "You had me waiting for nearly an hour! Disrespectful, Oak!"

Frantic, Green set a finger on his lips to urge Gold into silence, through a nearly inaudible whisper he hissed, "I was gone for twenty!"

Gold's miffed frown possessed no indication of leveling his voice. "Who are you shushing! I _know_ it ain't me after I've been sitting here, warding off spiders and creepers away from _you_!"

The noise of a flushing toilet drew the pair into silence, Green looked over his shoulder to witness Eevee chasing his tail in futile circles at the doorway, and when the fox paused for an intake of breath, he yipped cheerfully to encourage the footsteps to approach. Late to both process and act accordingly to push his pet aside to close the door, Red stopped at the entry to scoop the energetic animal off the floor, softly petting the tufts of fur behind Eevee's large ears.

Green smacked his hand to his face in disbelief.

Gold blinked, dumbfounded. "Wow," whistling in a manner mixed with both awe at the revelation and confusion, he returned to his seat, parroting his earlier statement. "Just…Wow."

Red turned his head, his eyebrows gave a small, visible rise to express his surprise. 'Oh, Gold.' Acknowledging the third party's presence, Red became disheartened, the voice of his conscious alerted Green to begrudgingly lower his hand to watch Red bend his knees, 'He…wouldn't like me touching Eevee,' he lowered the whining fox protesting to remain buried in his arms rather than left neglected on the cold touch of the hardwood floors, 'I'm sorry. I can't…I wouldn't want him mad.'

Seeking a roundabout act of benevolence, Green shot a reprimanding scowl at Eevee, "You're way too spoiled to be this noisy!" His thundering footsteps struck an uneasy nerve within Red, the twitch in body as he reflexively retreated a step back remained noticed by Green but unspoken as he clamped Eevee by his narrow, furry body, and shoved the fox busily vocalizing its cheeriness with a loud, nearly screeching squeak in Red's arms. Red's mouth quivered in an attempt to form a single word of gratitude, within seconds of realizing his inability to gather his low, quiet voice, he cleared the lump in his throat and closed his mouth, burying his nose in the fuzzed patches of fur between Eevee's ears, he just nodded slightly instead. Unaccustomed to the gesture, Red clenched his eyelids shut, the enunciation of his mind possessed a shaky, rare stammer. 'Th-Thank you. For Eve-Eevee…and-and-'

Eager to intervene, Gold grinned from ear to ear. "Yo, Red! What's good! Fancy seeing you here, uh, I mean there! Yeah! So…I think I hear my mom callin' me down for grub, so see ya for now." Gold made a last gesture of pretending to hold a mobile device in his hand, imitating the movements of typing and mouthing the words "Text me about this."

Green connected his thumb and index fingers to form a circle, his other fingers relaxed in the air as he sent his friend the approval to brief him about his circumstances while his guest left his formerly occupied space to follow the jittering fox pinpointing him to a different area of the residency by firmly jutting out its muzzle. Rifling through his closet for clean loungewear, he settled on draping a plain black cotton shirt and red—Green could not prevent the quietest chuckle from escaping him—baggy plaid pants over his arm, striding through the hall he made an abrupt halt at his spare closet, presumably left open by his older sibling foraging the endless assortment of curtains and seasonal decorations for her warmer jackets. Plucking a spare towel from the pile, Green descended down the staircase to find Red situated comfortably on the sofa, his warmer countenance brightened the atmosphere compared to his former, despondent mood upon his arrival. Immersed in a boyish play—Eevee would make the attempt to clamp his mouth on Red's wriggling digit, he would withdraw his hand before Eevee could achieve any succession—Green plopped the clothes on the armrests of the reclining chair, he swung the towel in a casual, circular motion, his sharp whistling snapped the teen from his reverie.

And Red stiffened.

Green's whistling ebbed in low, withering chords. He peered into his hand, the subject of Red's intense fixation, realization dawning over him: the pettiness after the outcome of their track race. A quelled frustration still retained a lingering, bittersweet animosity that churned his stomach recalling the event, but his exasperation manifested in the form of an initiative he aimed to seize:

'Calm down, calm down, calm down,' Red recited in a panic mantra, protectively and instinctively gripping the fennec fox tighter, 'calm down, Red, it's just a towel, it's just a towel, calm down.'

Red forced his eyes shut, his panic intensifying in uncommon, desperate shouts. 'Don't kick me out, not when Pikachu's sick! Not when my-'

The towel cascaded gently over his dampened black hair, the gentle ministrations lowered his rigid shoulders to fall slowly, the distress marring his face lessened into an expression of blank confusion, his eyelashes fluttered opened, nervously, cautiously, and a set of thumbs pressed down on the ridge of his jawline to tilt his head up. "Red," the composed demeanor roused a slow blink, the long black eyelashes collected the tiniest drops of water trickling down on the orbits of his eyes produced from the long black strands matted against his cheeks, "_calm down_."

Green gently pried his fingers from the bony juncture of Red's jawline and neck, offering a victorious snicker, he ruffled the towel against the tangled locks playfully rough, but not enough to jostle another momentary flit of panic. "And look at that, I'm touching you and it hasn't bothered you yet! You can thank the greatest person in the world later," releasing his grip, Green pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, "'cause I'm gonna make some famous Oak renowned hot chocolate."

Red, despite himself, rolled his eyes, 'I'll remember to thank your grandfather.'

Green, accepting the jibe to his ego, was unfazed to pursue his pointless quip, "You know, I'll crush your aspirations now: we have no Oak-brand hot chocolate. You're getting some nasty, gritty knock-off brand chocolate that's been sitting in the pantry for three thousand years."

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><p>Green ventured into the basement throughout a series of fifteen and thirty minute intervals: half an hour to restore light on the snoozing mouse, the other fifteen to switch the lamp off to prevent the possibility of a heat stroke. Without fail, Red would grow relentless, debating with himself whether he should ask about the wellbeing of Pikachu or, out of courtesy, offer his remaining confidence to Green's caretaking capabilities,<p>

_or_ resort to an approach to breach the topic through begging in order to accompany him into the basement, much to Green's surprise when he heard the thought formulated.

However, Red reluctantly kept his peace, and Green received a positive confirmation over his family's arrival that would occur within the timespan of an hour. Keeping their estimated time of return as a secret, Green occupied his spare time to prepare a meal for his family while Red napped on the recliner chair—the sofa was in process of drying from the large body-shaped wetspots. After a change of outfits, Green instructed Red to sleep on a different seat—shrugging at the taste of the broth, Green disregarded his working station momentarily to return to the closet in the second level, spotting the braided ends of the item he was searching for, he yanked a thick knitted blanket buried under a heap of filled bins and heavier equipment.

He reasoned with himself, as he retreated to the first floor to set the blanket over Red's slumbering form, he was acting in a manner that both his grandfather and Daisy raised him – he nearly snorted at the prospect of trying to succumb to such an excuse. Pleasing his own mood, Green trekked into the kitchen to finish his preparations, and within the next hour the echoing complaints began at the opening creak of the front door: Daisy raised concerns over the "unreasonably snowy day" while the eldest Oak laughed good-naturedly.

Then it flew over his head he had yet to explain about the guest in the house residing in his living room.

"Stranger danger!" she shrieked, "Green! Green! Are you okay?"

Red shot up from his slumber, his bleary eyes frantically searching the source of the outburst.

"Thanks for breaking the sound barrier, sis, don't know what I'd without ya," Green casually retorted as he joined his family, he threw a rag over his shoulder and crossed his arms. "Daisy, gramps, maybe you remember Red, from school? Well, before we get into the 'why's and 'what were you thinking,' I'm not, contrary to belief, a _complete_ prick. Long story short and then I _swear_ I'll explain the rest, his pet mouse means a lot to him like Eevee does to me and said pet mouse is downstairs feeling really sick. I have absolutely no idea what's wrong and," exhaling sharply, he directed his sibling and grandfather a defeated grimace, "…I need your help."

He was met with a familiar choking silence after the pair exchanged looks, but both of them gave a tired, warm smile to the youngest Oak.

"Don't worry," Daisy beamed, she glanced over her shoulder and regarded Red with a confident thumbs-up, "we'll do everything we can."

Red was radiating a hopeful vibe. 'Thank you,' shifting his gaze from the elder Oaks, he met eye contact with Green steadily observing him through astonished, emerald irises: the ends of Red's lips upturned at the corners, his elated smile was gentle, humble, and serene. Red quirked his head to the side, his fingers clenched the fabric of the blanket tucked in his fists, and he directed him the sincerest gratitude that was never said.

'Thank you, Green.'

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><p>gimmie friend codes message me them yy

so i wanted to set a happier undertone to this after everything in the prev chapters and also bc its the 25th today so yeah a bit of cheer goes a long way for this. im gonna go recover so i can get the hang of characterization bc wow wtf what i doing before and now but at least currently its an excuse lmfao (yo psst anybody like billdip from gravity falls bc ill be on ao3 under a different name where all my fucked up stuff goes ye)

happy holidays!


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